


catoptromancy

by KiriKay



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Complete, F/F, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, and now its all over, i realize i probably should tag this at this point, its not graphic rly but i want to make sure its tagged just in case, its veeeeeery brief, mood whiplash also kdjslkfjs, the ai centric canon divergence nobody asked me to write, the ranai only happens near and at the endd yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2018-12-14 22:10:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 61,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11792508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiriKay/pseuds/KiriKay
Summary: Ai Mikaze is 15 when he meets what will become Quartet Night.Ai Mikaze is 15 when everything he’s known is pushed, bit by crumbling bit, out from under him.Ai Mikaze is 15 and everything feels like it's just starting, like the world is giving him a chance he had never entertained.





	1. Wants and Needs

**Author's Note:**

> so my brain was like "hey what if u do this thing" and now im 4 ch. deep and dunno what else to do but post it.  
> insert precursory "uta pri is not mine" here

Ai Mikaze is 15 when he meets those who would soon become his bandmates.

It all feels like a bit of a rush when he thinks back on it-- and a total mess if he’s honest, which he is.

If it had been left up to him, Ai think’s he would have  _ never _ put Camus and Ranmaru in the same group at first; they butted heads like nobody Ai had ever seen, constantly arguing like there was nothing better to do but disagree. Reiji was always just  _ this _ side of too positive, so Ai’s sure that any group with Reiji would be enjoyable, although a more bubbly pop group would likely fit him best.

Ai fits in just about anywhere, as far as he’s concerned. An everyman.

They’re all gathered together in Shining Saotome’s office, Doctor Kisaragi standing between Ai and Shining Saotome’s desk. Reiji is sitting casually in the seat furthest from Ai--  _ ex student, _ Ai’s mind supplies quickly,  _ he seems to be used to Shining’s shenanigans. _ Camus is in the other seat, just on Ai’s right, sitting straight-backed and regal and glaring fiercely at Shining. Ranmaru stands closest to the door, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his eyes slit.

_ Aggressive _ , Ai thinks, glancing from the corner of his eye.

Ai stays still as Shining begins an elaborate explanation that inexplicably includes fireworks and wires and pirouettes. Doctor Kisaragi unconsciously moves his arm across Ai’s chest, ready to push him back the moment a firework gets too close.

Ai’s sure he can dodge in time if it comes down to it, and he’s sure the doctor knows it as well. Ai says nothing of it. He had long since gotten used to the doctor’s more protective habits.

Shining finishes with a flourish, glitter raining down from somewhere above him as he poses. Reiji is trying not to laugh, Camus has barely reacted, and Ranmaru looks ready to leave at any moment.

“You want us to form an idol group.” Ai says finally into the silence, straight forward, and the doctor lowers his arm to glance at Ai. “I do not think such an elaborate presentation was necessary.”

Reiji shifts towards Shining Saotome, still in his seat.

(Away from Ai, but Ai doesn’t quite catch that.)

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Reiji says with a smile. “Although I’m a  _ little _ rough, since I haven't sung in a while.”

“You’re a natural Kotobuki!” Shining Saotome declares, sliding over towards Reiji and raining some glitter onto him with the wide swing of his arms. “You’ll be back in the game in no time!”

“No thanks.” Ranmaru says suddenly from the back, door creaking as he opens it.

“Kurosaki!”

And suddenly Shining is right there, next to Ranmaru, and Ai feels himself startle. Doctor Kisaragi is frowning as he turns to watch Shining. Ai is  _ very _ familiar with that look; a lot of  _ discussion _ came with those frowns usually.

Ai did not  _ want _ discussions. He wanted--

Camus stands smoothly and turns too, watching Shining and Ranmaru argue at the door. Ai glances at him, thought interrupted, and Camus glares back down. Ai stays unmoved by the expression, simply tilting his head to get a better look at Camus. Camus seems satisfied by Ai’s neutral expression, because he tilts his head in acknowledgement before turning his attention to Shining and Ranmaru.

“It’s an offer  _ you _ can’t refuse, Kurosaki Ranmaru!” Shining Saotome finally crows out, and that seems to finally break Ranmaru’s resolve as he slowly shuts the door behind him. There’s a glare as intense as Camus’s on his face,

Ai feels his face heat up-- only a faint trace of color rises up Ai’s neck in response-- as he begins to over analyze. Ranmaru has on an odd expression, one Ai can’t fully decipher, not yet, and Ai feels the need to figure it out.

Human emotions were complicated, and when Ai couldn’t get an explanation the desire to know felt overwhelming and hot in his head; it felt like he had to force every part of himself to figure it out, to  _ know _ and be more  _ human _ from it. The doctor thought that it was one of Ai’s bad habits. Ai did not share the sentiment at all.

The doctor puts a hand on Ai’s shoulder and that center’s him for a moment, slows his search as he instead looks up at the doctor. The frown is pulling into  _ concerned _ territory now.

“And you, Camus?” Shining asks with a confident grin.

Camus’s rumbling voice simply replies with an, “I agree” that holds nothing but professionalism.

“Doctor--” Ai begins, low and smooth. “Doctor, I  _ want _ to do this. I’ve never been in an idol group. I’m curious.”

“I know.” is the doctor’s response, a small smile pulling at his lips. “I’m just worried.”

“Now now Doctor!” Shining roars-- Ai wonders if he has  _ no _ inside voice-- and suddenly he's sprinkling glitter all over Ai instead, hovering a little by the wires tied to his suit. “I assure you, there’s nothing  _ to _ worry about! It’s going to be a  _ wonderful _ experience for young Ai to learn and enjoy his time as an idol!”

Reiji grinds his teeth, stills for a moment before getting up and slapping on a smile.

“I’m sure it’ll be fun!” Reiji says, smiling brightly as he waves his hands at the doctor. “If you’re so worried, I promise I’ll help Ai as much as possible.”

There’s an emotion that flickers across the doctor’s face-- just for a moment, and the glare of the glasses makes it hard to really tell-- and Ai feels himself heat up all over again as he tries to decipher  _ that _ look.

“Of course,” the doctor says and he smiles a bit, the hand on Ai’s shoulder squeezing lightly and pulling him close. “I trust Ai, but I can’t help but worry about him as well. It's a very automatic reaction.”

“I will be fine.” Ai says, glancing at the doctor and then at Reiji. “I would tell you if anything were wrong.”

“That’s the spirit!” Reiji cheers, smiling wider. “It’ll be a good experience for you!”

“I look forward to working with you all, then.” Ai replies honestly, eyes darting between all three of his now-bandmates.

Camus grunts, and Ai decides that’s probably as good as it’s getting from him for now. Ranmaru murmurs something indistinct and looks away, still cross from his conversation with Shining.

Reiji cheers and returns the sentiment wholeheartedly, reaching around Camus to put a hand on Ai’s free shoulder excitedly.

_ I want this _ , Ai thinks, and it feels genuine.


	2. Bitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ai finds out how working with the rest of Quartet Night feels. He's not very impressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyway get ready bc this is when the real canon divergence aspects step in

Just because he wants it didn’t mean it was gonna be _easy_ . Ai never _thought_ it was going to be easy, not since he was 11 and running on 5 hours of sleep a week just to train.

He didn’t think it’d be _this hard_ either though.

Ranmaru and Camus fought like two angry bulls, Camus with his flare for the dramatic and Ranmaru with his rough edges. Ai didn’t really understand why it was so hard for them to get along and it seemed Reiji was equally perplexed, giving Ai concerned looks whenever a fight broke out.

Ai learned very quickly that he was the only one who could really mediate between them when things got heated. Reiji tried, of course, but his bright bubbly personality seemed to only irritate the two further.

Ai didn’t expect a simple discussion over a song Saotome had given them from a hopeful composer would _already_ bode arguments. They had sung it once, with a full musical accompaniment, to get a feel for it yesterday and had decided to sleep on it.

It seemed that Camus and Ranmaru had woken up on the wrong side of the song this morning.

“The song is perfectly fine,” Ai says, opting to stare into his tea instead of watching Camus and Ranmaru argue more. “It has a good division between our singing and a good beat for choreography.”

Ranmaru huffs, crosses his arms tightly as he settles back down next to Reiji. Ai has to place a hand on Camus’s elbow (it was as much as Ai could get to with Camus still standing) to get him to settle back next to Ai.

The parallel couches had become a common meeting place for the four within two weeks of them meeting, and the poor mahogany coffee table between them was not likely to survive. Ranmaru had already slammed his foot into it heatedly twice before. The first time they had met up for tea here, Reiji and Ai had made the mistake of letting Ranmaru and Camus sit together.

Ai can still see the crack on the armrest of the couch, carefully varnished over but still visible if you knew to look for it.

Camus reaches for his own tea, neatly taking a sip. Reiji was swirling the tea in his cup thoughtfully.

“It’s a good song,” Reiji says with a more serious tone than usual. “It just needs a little work on the music; it feels off, somehow.”

“I agree,” Ai replies before Ranmaru or Camus could even begin to contemplate it. “It’s some of the synth I believe, too high pitched. I can work on it, and we can give it another chance.”

There’s some finality to Ai’s words despite the fact it’s the same, straight-forward monotone he uses daily. Reiji smiles.

“That’s perfect Ai-Ai! I can’t wait to hear it.” he gushes, leaning forward and making his tea slosh a bit too roughly for comfort.

“You are going to spill your tea.” Ai supplies helpfully and Reiji immediately straightens his cup, placing it on the table.

“Oi, aren’t you 15?” Ranmaru asks suddenly, and Ai faces his glare with a single raised eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“You don’t _act_ like a 15 year old.”

Ai takes in a deep breath, because he’s heard this before-- quite a few times, in fact, from being 10 and quiet, from being 13 and talented, from being 15 and strict. Ai think’s of the doctor’s words when Ai had asked about everyone _else's_ asking.

Ai lowers his teacup.

“It comes with the territory.” he says, simply.

Camus hums and puts his cup down, now drained.

“You’re very mature. I appreciate that.” Camus says simply, tilting his head towards Ai, the movement becoming more and more familiar to him. “As opposed to Reiji.”

“Hey!” Reiji squawks in response, hands raising to his chest. “That’s _mean_ Myu-chan!”

“You’re 22, you should act like it.” is Camus’s curt response.

“ _You’re_ only 17!” Ranmaru cuts in, leaning forwards. “You act _way_ too high and mighty for it, damn it.”

“ _You’re_ only a year older.” Camus shoots back, ready to rise to Ranmaru’s challenge.

“He’s not, his birthday is in September. He is still 17.” Ai adds, causing Ranmaru to glare at him again.

“ _I’m still older_.”

“It doesn’t matter in the end.” Ai says, brushing some of his bangs back with his free hand. “You are _both_ acting like children. We _are_ professionals, please _act_ like it.”

Taking a sip of his tea, Ai’s nose twitches a little as the cup empties out. Leaning forwards, he takes the teapot and pours himself some more.

“You’re younger than all of us, what gives you the right to boss us around?” Ranmaru grouses, still ready for a fight.

Ai had expected it. Where Camus was getting familiar with Ai too, getting used to the curt honesty and didn’t let bite that inevitably lined Ai’s words bother him much, Ranmaru had yet to desensitize.

“Nothing except your own immaturity, Kurosaki.”

Reiji winces; Ai doesn't sound angry in the slightest, but that seemed a bit more upset than his usual way of speaking. Ai doesn't take notice, more occupied in stirring the sugar into his tea as Ranmaru curses up a storm.

“Calm down Ran-Ran!” Reiji scrambles, putting a hand on Ranmaru’s shoulder.

“You're only proving me right.” Ai says, staring right at Ranmaru as he picks up his refilled cup. Its warm enough that Ai impulsively wraps both hands around it. “If you cannot take criticism, you cannot grow.”

Reiji let's out a sharp breath, looking at Ai now.

“Ai-Ai, there's no need to be so rough _either_ \--”

“No, let him talk, I wanna see how much a damn _kid_ can try and teach me.” Ranmaru interrupts, standing up and stepping in front of Reiji.

“A _kid_ who debuted successfully at 13, Ranmaru.” Camus says smoothly, eyes cold.

Reiji curses under his breath, scrambling to stand up. Ai sits still, watching the exchange.

“Let's just say we’re done for today, okay?” Reiji says, holding out his hands between Ranmaru and Camus.

“I _do_ have to go fix the song.” Ai offers, taking a sip of his tea. “The faster, the better as it's said.”

“Coward.” Ranmaru spits out.

Ai feels a part of himself rear up, the part of him he rarely acknowledges. It was scrambled and fierce, exhausting to listen to. A fog.

(Another hidden part of Ai knew that really, he just feared the anger and sadness and conflicting, cloudy terrors that came from it..)

Aine whispers, _then that makes two of us,_ with tight venom.

He always seemed to rouse when Ai wanted him the least.

“If that’s what you believe.” is what comes out of Ai’s mouth, soft and muffled by his cup. “I do not feel like I have to prove myself to you.”

 _Don’t back down!,_ Aine’s voice hisses, appalled. _Don't let him!_ **_Don't let him!_ **

Ai’s not sure _what_ he's letting Ranmaru do in Aine’s eyes. He doesn't bother trying to figure it out as Ranmaru storms off.

Aine’s emotions we’re never truly _worth_ looking into. They always left Ai shivering and broken apart. It wasn’t something he enjoyed feeling.

Camus nods towards Ai, small but kind, as he leaves

Reiji sighs as he watches them leave before sighing even louder and staggering over towards Ai. Ai let's out a soft breath across the top of his tea, steam curling in front of his eyes, as Reiji flops down next to him.

“Honestly, those two are tiring!” Reiji whines, tilting his head to watch Ai. He's loose limbed in a sprawl, hat sloppily covering his right eye.

“They seem to have opposing personalities.” Ai supplies, still looking into his tea. Aine lies silent in Ai’s head. “I do not believe Saotome knew what he was doing when he put us together.”

Reiji watches Ai drink in silence, feeling himself zone out.

Ai looks so much like Aine that it hurt to see him, hurt to be near him; but Reiji was slowly finding out that Ai as a whole wasn't much like Aine. Aine had been a sly spitfire in Reiji’s eyes, someone who could break up Kei and Hibiki with a few sharp words. Ai was more efficient, honest to a fault, and even though he had proved to be effective at breaking up fights, it wasn't the _same_. Ai was smooth, letting both parties know they were exaggerating instead of just demanding an end to the argument. Nothing like Aine.

 _More tact,_ Reiji thinks with a twitch of his lips. _Not surprising_.

“Kotobuki?” Ai asks quietly, teacup in his lap. “Are you alright?”

“Fine, fine, just tired!” Reiji replies loftily, waving his hand around nonchalantly. “Although I was thinking, if you wouldn't mind, I’d like to see how you’re gonna fix the synth. I never did get the hang of synthesizers and all that.”

Ai blinks slowly, the only indication of his surprise at Reiji’s request.

“Okay,” he says as he sets his teacup down on the coffee table, empty. “I do not mind. But if you feel too tired, do not hesitate to tell me.”

“Of course Ai-Ai.” Reiji replies, grin on full again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so mainly i changed the ages bc its rly hard to believe a bunch of 20 y/o are gonna get along w ai so i clumped the ages closer. also its rly fun to think of them going and doing dumb shit together
> 
> i have a writing blog, come hang out on [selenolatries](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) if u wanna talk some more


	3. Bittersweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reiji has a bit of a retrospective. Nobody notices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey yall happy hump day, i started school again this week and its already pretty terrible.  
> anyway updates are gonna be a mess bc im only like a chapter ahead? so YEAH get ready for that nonsense!!

It's genuinely interesting to Reiji how Ai explains, step by step, how he uses his synth keyboard and how he thinks it should work in the test song. Reiji drinks it all in, Ai’s smooth monotone slowly heating up to something more impassioned.

It felt like Ai genuinely enjoyed showing Reiji what he knew, and Reiji was more than happy to be his attentive audience. They sat across from each other in the Saotome dorm Ai had been given, Reiji on one of the kitchen chairs and Ai in his own desk chair. Reiji slowly absorbs what each dial and slider does, drinks in the little melodies Ai creates to show Reiji how things sounded together. Reiji feels lulled into a warm mood, humming along with Ai’s music and swaying along with his voice.

Eventually, Ai pauses and smiles a small bit.

“You can try to play it, if you'd like.” Ai says, turning the synth keyboard and holding it out to Reiji.

Reiji beams and carefully takes the black and lavender synth from Ai. He's being especially careful-- the corners of the board look worn and scratched but otherwise, its well taken care of. Reiji would hate to be the one to break something so obviously well-loved.

Although, even if he _did_ manage to somehow break it, there are plenty of scattered bits of tech and wires around Ai’s room to convince Reiji he'd be able to fix it himself.

Reiji still keeps an extra careful hold of the board.

He decides to start with something small-- a little melody that’s light and and quick, repeating it a few times to get it just right as he fiddles.

Ai blinks, the corners of his mouth slowly tilting upwards once more.

“That’s good.” Ai says, unaware that his face is already giving his feelings away. “You’re taking to it well.”

“Thanks to you, of course!” Reiji replies cheerfully, smile soft but bright as he speeds up some more.

“It was no trouble.”

Ai’s phone rings in that moment, and he excuses himself. Reiji murmurs, “no worries, I was going to leave anyway!”, and sets the synth carefully on Ai’s desk as Ai answers.

“Hello doctor Kisaragi,” Ai answers with a pleased lilt to his voice, turning his back to Reiji somewhat. “How are you?”

It's good that Ai is distracted because Reiji feels everything inside of him clench tight. _Kisaragi_. His mind races.

Reiji manages to stand up stiffly and walk towards the door, head filled with cotton as he says a soft goodbye to Ai and steps out. Ai waves back almost automatically.

The quiet click of the door shutting sounds like a goddamn _shot_ to Reiji.

There was so _much_ he had held up against since he'd seen Ai in Shining Saotome’s office. Ai had been the spitting image of Aine; same candy colored hair, same soft cyan eyes, same gentle slope to his nose. And then hearing him _talk_ had been a punch in the gut because suddenly he _wasn't_ Aine anymore, voice stiff and monotonous, and Aine was _still_ missing and it was _still_ Reiji’s fault.

Reiji had held together of course, had put his grief in a box and looked forwards; Ai Mikaze had undeniable _talent_ and Reiji was going to look _forward_ and move _ahead_ with Quartet Night and it was going to be _wonderful_.

Well.

He had _hoped_ it would be wonderful.

But it seemed like the universe was conspiring against Reiji for now.

It's all he could think of as he wanders down the hall and into his own room, dazed and misty eyed.

 _It's just a name_ , Reiji tries to soothe.

The door glides shut.

_Just a name._

Reiji clicks the lock into place.

And slowly, Reiji turns to stare down at his bed.

“A name,” he chokes out. He feels unconvinced.

Sleep. Sleep would do him good. It was 4 in the afternoon though, and he _had_ been planning on scribbling some lyrics down; it would help clean out some of the awkwardness from Camus and Ranmaru’s fight from his head.

The weight on every inch of Reiji’s body, pulling his blood and bones closer and closer to the bed, made sure to wipe the thought from his head.

Carefully, Reiji places his hat on his bedside table and sits on the edge of the mattress, swallowing hard.

He hadn't mourned. Not really. Some part of him had always clung to the hope that he'd see Aine again, would get to hug his best friend and tug on his hair and just have him _close_ again. Hope hadn't let him truly think on the possibility that _maybe_ Aine was dead, and that _maybe_ mourning was appropriate.

The idea was starting to sink in now.

Reiji’s vision blurs. He can see warm dark spots appear and spread on his pants. It doesn’t feel like he’s there at all, doesn’t feel like he’s looking at his own legs.

Aine Kisaragi was likely dead and Reiji Kotobuki had refused to mourn him for five years. It had been _five years_ since Aine had called Reiji and then disappeared when Reiji hadn't answered. It had been four years ago that Reiji had completed his idol course at Shining Academy and had struggled through his life as an idol.

It had been two years since his retirement.

And within two weeks of being part of Quartet Night, Reiji felt like he was 17 again and drowning in the crippling anxiety and loneliness that came with losing Aine.

He was losing Aine all over again.

A sob wracks through Reiji, heavy and deep. The bed creaks under his shifting weight, body shuddering under the strength of his crying. Nothing feels _real_ , like someone is going to yell “cut!” and everything would just stop being Reiji’s actual _life_ and nothing would _matter_ past that.

There is no director yelling cut.

Everything was falling apart again. Reiji felt like the air was pushing him down, wisps of too-thick breath escaping with each sob only for it to be replaced with bits of sharp lead in his lungs. Everything felt too heavy.

Reiji curls up on himself, finally falling back onto his bed and letting out an ugly, warbling whimper.

It was finally his time to grieve.

Reiji misses dinner that night. When Ai goes to check on him, with five even knocks that are light but loud all the same, nobody answers.

Ai lets it be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic should b called "mourning and dissociation" bc i am writing A LOT of that in my advanced chapters tf  
> come hang w/ me on my [tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) and yell at me over hurting reiji only 3 chapters in lol


	4. Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time of kindness after the start of a storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey yall happy thursday im sick af and im out of backlog so its officially "kiri's erratic update time"

There isn't regret on Ranmaru’s face, not really, but Ai thinks that there's _something_ on there the next day. Ai had managed to fix up what he was sure was throwing the song off after his call with the doctor, and they had given the song another shot.

(Reiji was as bright eyed as ever. Ai felt the fog shift around uneasily at the sight. He decided to pay closer attention to Reiji’s expressions for now, to soothe the itch.)

Camus looks pleased with the fixes Ai had made, and Reiji is excited to sing, and Ranmaru looks a bit chastised, and Ai takes it all in as they sing together. It gives him a. . . _pleasant_ feeling.

Ai would have to analyze it some more later.

“I knew you could do it, Ai-Ai!” Reiji squeals when they finish, throwing an arm around Ai’s shoulder and nuzzling the top of his head.

“Thank you.” Ai replies, patting Reiji’s hand hesitantly. He's not sure if he should shrug Reiji off, so he doesn't. Not now.

Camus tilts his head towards the two with a slight nod. Approval.

Ranmaru is conspicuously quiet.

“Well, Ranmaru?” Camus asks, heavy but slightly teasing. “What do you think?”

Ranmaru’s arms are crossed tight, and he’s got a glare, but when he speaks it isn’t an immediate dismissal.

“It’s better.” is what he says.

Ai doesn’t fight the way his lips twitch into a barely-there smile.

Working in an idol group was proving to be worth while. Even with the constant fighting, Ai was still enjoying himself thoroughly.

Well.

He _had_ always loved the difficult.

* * *

 

In the end, even with the alterations, they had chosen to scrap the song. It hadn't felt quite up to the standard they were looking for but the composer seemed to be ready to rise to the challenge; she had taken their criticism head on and promised a better song next time she met them.

Ai understood her tenacity. He thanked her for it. She flustered under the praise but smiled nonetheless. She had to have been brilliant to have been assigned to Shining Saotome’s own pet project, so Ai was willing to give her a chance.

Reiji throws an arm over Ai’s shoulders once she’s gone, making a sly face and tilting closer towards Ai. Ai looks at him from the corner of his eye.

“Well Ai-Ai,” Reiji begins playfully. “You seem _interested_ in miss Itsuki.”

Ai tilts his head to look at Reiji, brows furrowing together gently.

“She _is_ writing songs for us.”

“That’s not what I _mean_ though!”

“Then what _do_ you mean?”

Camus huffs a little in amusement as he watches. Ai can’t help but glance over.

“I think he means _romantic_ interest.” Camus fills in, making another amused noise when Ai lets out a little “oh”.

“No, then, I am not interested in her that way.” Ai replies, shaking his head a little.

 _I don’t think I can be interested_ , is what he doesn’t say. The doctor was unsure as to whether to inform the rest of Quartet Night of Ai’s android status, and Ai promised to vet them for the doctor, so he kept that comment to himself.

Currently, Camus was the only one Ai was gaining confidence with, if only because Camus kept his own secrets extremely well.

“She’s cute.” Reiji prods, amused.

“There are rules in place against romance, Kotobuki.” Ai shoots back, raising an eyebrow.

Reiji scoffs, throwing his free hand up to his forehead and leaning back dramatically. Ai stays stiff and still, practically holding Reiji up from where Reiji is gripping his shoulder.

“The heart wants what it wants Ai-Ai! Having rules in place to stop it just makes things even more _passionate_.” Reiji declares, leaning up on the last word and giving Ai a suggestive look.

“Does it?” Ai asks, genuinely curious as he feels his neck heat up.

“Of course it does! It’s _the_ greatest source of musical influence--” Reiji begins, wiggling his eyebrows, only to be interrupted.

“All women do is ruin things.” Ranmaru says suddenly, growling.

All eyes turn to him.

“That is a very broad statement.” Ai murmurs. “Miss Yoshino is trying her best to write a song for us all. I do not believe that falls under the umbrella of “ruining things”. I think quite the opposite, and I am pleased by how hard she is working for us considering we are not her idols.”

There’s a chastise in Ai’s words, and that rattles a little laugh from the fog. Ranmaru bristles.

Ai realizes a moment too late that Camus is _also_ bristling.

“Women,” Camus begins, flipping some of his blond hair back. “Are graceful, amazing creatures and you should _appreciate_ them as such!”

“Oh _god_.” Reiji groans, seeing the argument begin to swell.

“All women _do_ is _get in the way_.”

That was it; the dam broke and Camus and Ranmaru began yelling at each other about the general status of women. Ai purses his lips to stop himself from laughing at their nonsense, glancing at Reiji.

“I am glad most of the rooms here are soundproofed.” he says and Reiji reaches to tug on a strand of his own brown hair.

“I don’t understand them at all!”

Ai smiles a small bit before clearing his throat loudly to get Camus and Ranmaru’s attention. Ai steps up to physically separate them, hands out to his sides, and looks directly at Ranmaru when he speaks.

“Regardless of whatever your misogynistic view of women is, Kurosaki, Miss Yoshino _is_ writing our music for now and you will just have to put your feelings to the side. Professionalism is important.”

“She’s very talented Ran-Ran!” Reiji interrupts, throwing his arm around Ranmaru’s shoulders cheerily. “Just give her a chance, yeah? I’m sure she’ll dazzle us with what she brings us next.”

With all eyes on him, Ranmaru felt cornered. A three out of four was going to force his hand regardless of what he wanted, and with Ai’s calming stare draining the fight out of him with his logic, Ranmaru sighs.

“ _Fine_.”

“Thank you.” Ai says, voice drowned out Reiji’s cheer.

Camus makes an annoyed noise, which draws Ai’s attention to him instead. The staring match brings a little inkling of glee into Ranmaru because he can see Camus wither a little.

“I do hope you are not going to continue the fight. We do have more things today. You can have this conversation at a later date.” Ai murmurs, gently tilting his head to the side.

“I plan to.” is Camus’s stiff response.

Ai thanks Camus, quieter than before and it's tinged with a soft, pleased tone.

* * *

 

Two days later, Itsuki Yoshino appears at Ai’s door at three in the afternoon. She looks tired, blonde hair in a messy ponytail and shadows under her hazel eyes, but she smiles brightly at Ai when he opens his door.

“I was hoping you’d be here,” she said, holding out a manilla folder. “I wanted you to be the first to see these!”

Ai blinks, and steps to the side to let her in.

“Come in, then.”

Itsuki beams and steps into Ai’s room, slipping off her flats and padding over towards the kitchen counter immediately. Ai shuts the door as Itsuki starts spreading her papers out, and he feels genuine curiosity well up inside.

“So!” Itsuki begins, turning towards Ai and clapping her hands together. “After meeting you guys, I started working nonstop and I came up with two songs. I’m positive you’re gonna like them!”

“I am excited to see them,” Ai replies with a small quirk to his lips.

“The first one is Quartet Night and the other is Poison Kiss. I’ve gone through _so_ many drafts, I didn’t even let my idols interrupt me ‘cause I wanted to get it _just_ right.”

Itsuki is holding out a clear folder out to Ai, sheet music and lyrics hidden behind a white sheet with “QUARTET NIGHT” scribbled hastily onto it. Ai feels something akin to gratitude well up inside him as he takes the folder from her, flicking it open and reading everything over. A smile, small but sweet, forms over Ai’s mouth and Itsuki mirrors his expression.

“You like it?” she asks excitedly.

“I do.” Ai says, glancing up at her. “And I am sure they will too.”

“Yes!” she yells excitedly, pumping her fist into the air. “Okay, okay, Poison Kiss next, c’mon.”

She takes the folder from Ai’s outstretched hand, passing him the second one already opened. Ai gives it the same scrutiny as the first, just as intense even though he felt that he was hardly going to be disappointed.

“I like it.” Ai says, looking Itsuki head on. “Thank you for your hard work, Miss Yoshino; I can’t wait to sing these.”

Itsuki laughs, loud and boisterous, and jumps around.

“I can’t wait to hear you guys sing it!!” she cries out as Ai places the folder down. She takes both his hands in hers, clasping them tightly. “I know you’re going to do great, Mikaze. You probably don’t need me to tell you that, but I was _so_ excited when Shining asked me to write for his new group; I work with two idols, and it was a new experience to write for four.

“It was kind of scary at first because I didn’t know what I’d do, but you were so kind that I knew I had to make a song worthy of being sung by whatever group you were in. You work so hard! To debut so young must have been _so_ hard, but I admire you so much more for it.”

It had been difficult, incredibly so. He’d never really known that anyone admired him for it, though. Instead of saying anything, Ai feels himself fluster and blush. Itsuki doesn’t seem to mind as she continues speaking.

“I have full faith in Quartet Night’s future success, Mikaze. I think you four are going to be wonderful.” Itsuki says, eyes glowing and pleased.

“Thank you so much for your hard work, Miss Yoshino.” Ai finally says, moved and warm in a way that wasn’t burning his wires to bits. “Your idols are lucky to have you as their composer.”

Itsuki blushes too, and smiles, and Ai’s doesn’t have a _crush_ on her but he wouldn’t mind talking to her some _more_ . Seeing someone so _dedicated_ made Ai feel sympathetic, considering he was constantly dedicating all his time to his work.

Idol work was his _life_.

Itsuki seems just as enthralled by it.

It was. . . nice.

“You can keep these copies of the songs, I have the originals back in my dorm and I'll bring copies to Shining tomorrow.” Itsuki says, letting go of Ai’s hands. “I just really wanted to see if you like them.”

“You are extremely talented, Yoshino. I had no doubt you could write a song for us.”

Itsuki smiles brightly. Ai smiles back, less bright but no less pleased, as they walk back towards the door.

“I have a meeting soon, but I finished them this afternoon and got excited. I can't wait to hear you all sing them!” Itsuki says, slipping on her flats as Ai opens the door.

“Thank you,” Ai says, even though he's said it countless times before. Itsuki doesn't seem to mind, happy to soak in Ai’s praise. “I _am_ excited to sing them.”

“You'll do them justice.” she says firmly.

“I hope to do _you_ justice.”

“Of course you will, Mikaze.”

Itsuki and Ai share a final smile before she leaves, Ai shutting the door gently in her wake. Ai presses his fingers against his mouth, feeling the smile stick to his face.

_Nice feelings for once?_

“Very.” Ai breathes out.

_You should sing it then._

“I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note that im not gonna ship ai w/ itsuki i just need him to have a completely outside buddy for. . . plot reasons. ;). im trying to rly build their dynamics before i shove my hands into what im gonna do
> 
> come chill with me on my [tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/), i might even discuss some spoilery things if u ask the right questions ;)))))


	5. Pleasantries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do androids dream of crushing anxiety?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy thursday yall, im in the "get fucked my hurricane irma" zone soon so like. theres that. hopefully i dont get fucked bc im liking this "steady updates" thing im doin'
> 
> anyway this chapter is kinda a clusterfuck so if you see any mistakes dont be afraid to tell meeeee, thanks

Singing Quartet Night and Poison Kiss for the first time together is practically a gift for Ai. It's a new experience, singing in a group, and despite the flatness of his expression, Ai is squirming inside.

_ Emotional?, _ Aine asks in a warbled voice. He always seemed most active whenever Ai was  _ almost _ feeling things,  _ almost _ overwhelmed with the desire to be human. Ai had long since stopped wondering about it.

_ I am not fully capable of being emotional. _ Ai thinks, mental voice nebulous with his focus on singing.

_ Bullshit. We both know it. _

Shining is crying what seems to be glitter just outside of the soundbooth, Itsuki edging away from him even as she beams.

“Miss Yoshino!” Shining finally cries out when they finish singing. “You have done an amazing job!”

“Thank you, sir.” Itsuki replies, bright eyed and hands pressed together. “I am thankful for the opportunity to have written for such wonderful idols.”

Ranmaru makes a noise, and Ai immediately curls his fingers around Ranmaru’s wrist and  _ squeezes _ . Ranmaru flinches and gives Ai the evil eye, but Ai only watches at Shining begins waxing poetic about the new music.

_ Drag the fight out of him _ , Aine murmurs almost cruelly.

_ I am only keeping his errant nature from interfering with work _ , Ai thinks back with a deep breath.  _ It is-- _

_ Distasteful _ .

Ai can't tell if he thought that or if Aine did. He shivers as Shining wraps his arms around Reiji and Camus, yelling something about  _ heart _ and  _ passion _ .

Ranmaru places his free hand over Ai’s, not too hard but demanding enough for Ai to glance over.

_ Did he notice? _

_ I don't know. _

“I won't say anything,” Ranmaru finally says lowly, looking cross but otherwise settled. Ai slowly drops his grip and for a few seconds, him and Ranmaru stay in a loose tangle of fingers and stares until Shining  _ picks Ai up. _

_ Fuck _ , Aine grouses as Shining swings Ai around dramatically.

“Please put me down.” Ai says plainly, hands delicately placed on one of Shining’s shoulders.

“I knew you wouldn't disappoint, Mikaze! Always working hard, isn’t that right?” Shining booms and he places Ai back down before turning to Ranmaru next.

_ of course not-- it's all-- you're  _ **_why_ ** _ \-- this is all I am-- you  _ **_know_ ** _ better-- I'd  _ **_never--_ **

_ Banter _ , Aine says,  _ its banter, you did well _ \--

Ai knows, on some level, that it is just playful joy from Shining Saotome. But the inside of his head raised to a crescendo of conflicting thoughts because it was  _ Shining Saotome _ , and his words held  _ weight _ .

The man was possibly  _ the _ most important person in Ai’s life, and even if Ai didn’t like it, he could  _ never _ let Shining down. There was no other  _ choice _ . Ai isn’t sure he ever  _ had _ the choice.

**_I'm fine, I'm good, he didn't expect to be disappointed did he? No chance of dec--_ **

Ai feels his shudder start at the back of his neck, curl around his shoulders and into his spine. He keeps his face impassive, tamping down the feeling across his body. Aine is suspiciously silent, probably because he can hear the cacophony that Ai’s mind had become. There's a rush in his ears, and he feels as Camus and Reiji step up around him distantly to watch Shining antagonize Ranmaru. Ai can see Ranmaru steadily getting angrier at whatever Shining is saying, watches his hackles rise.

Reiji tosses his arm around Ai’s shoulders, shaking him from his reverie.

“Now now Ran-Ran, calm down!” Reiji says with a grin. “We have two fantastic songs to sing now, it'll be great! We should go celebrate, yeah?”

Ai glances at Reiji, then up at Camus, before landing on Ranmaru.

“We should go out to eat, maybe.” Ai says, and the fog startles because that wasn't what Ai  _ meant _ to say.

(Ai needs some tea. Something nice and hot despite the spring warmth.  _ Anything _ .)

“That's a great idea Ai-Ai! There's plenty of great cafés around the Academy, and  _ I _ know the best!”

Reiji grins and reaches his free hand towards Ranmaru. Ai feels himself place a hand on Camus’s arm gently and looks up at him with a head tilt.

Camus looks down, tilting his head the other way.

Ai doesn't smile, not really, but the empty feeling curls in on itself a little bit with Camus’s silent approval. Camus does smile-- it's small and barely there, but Camus is pleased and Ai is glad.

_ You like them _ . Aine whispers, soft and warm and  _ distant _ .

Ai doesn't bother responding, as Reiji herds Ranmaru and Camus out the door enthusiastically.

“Miss Yoshino--” Ai says quietly to her, ready to invite her along.

“Some other time, Mikaze.” Itsuki replies with a soft smile. “I think it's important that you four celebrate together first. I'll see you soon though!”

Camus peers back into the studio.

“Ai?” he says, before looking over to Itsuki and smiling charmingly. “Are you coming along with us, miss Itsuki?”

“No, no no!” Itsuki chuckles, blushing and picking up her messenger bag from the floor. “I've gotta go, but thank you guys so much! I'll catch up to you four later.”

With that, Itsuki takes her leave and Ai still feels slow and distant.

“Are you alright, Ai?” Camus asks as they step out.

“Yes.” Ai says automatically.

Camus’s look is incredulous.

“I am. . . excited.” Ai amends--not a total lie. “I have never sung in an idol group before. It is quite new and I am intrigued.”

Camus hums once before sliding his gaze ahead to where Reiji and Ranmaru were talking loudly. Ai watches thoughtlessly, steps matching Camus’s naturally as they approached.

“--Ran-Ran, I swear the café is great!”

“It better be,” Ranmaru shoots back. “I'm not easily impressed, and I won't stand bad food.”

“Well I wouldn't take you all to a  _ bad _ café! Have some faith!”

Reiji looks at Camus and Ai for some help, and Ai tries his best to wade his way out of the mental distance.

“I do not think Kotobuki would take us somewhere to eat he did not like since he will  _ also _ be eating there. It would not make sense.” Ai offers, low and even. He doesn't feel like it's him talking, but it has to be.

“Exactly! Plus, it’s on me.” Reiji cajoles.

“Can't say no to that offer.” Camus says and Ai startles, looking up at him.

_ Banter _ .

Ai smiles slightly. The heaviness in his head persists despite his best efforts.

Ranmaru eventually gives in.

* * *

It takes 30 minutes to get to the cafe on foot, and only because the obscene size of Saotome Academy means it takes 20 odd minutes to even reach the gates.

The cafe is quiet, the lunch rush having just tided over. It's decorated with soft colors and sparse décor-- white walls with pastel blue, green, and pink ornaments, flowers in tall vases along the windows. The tables are round and metallic, seats trimmed with lace and a huddle of yellow tulips sit bright at the center of the table.

Ranmaru seems a bit  _ incensed _ . Ai grabs his elbow just before they’re seated and gives a little squeeze to remind him that it’s  _ not _ acceptable to yell in public. Saying it would be too direct with eyes already on them. Ranmaru takes one look at Ai and tugs his elbow out of Ai’s grip with a huff, otherwise silent.

Once seated though, the irritation seems to come back full force. Ai still feels dizzy despite his best efforts, and Ranmaru’s quietly pissed words glide right over him.

Well, Ai still  _ processes _ everything. He's just not paying much  _ attention _ .

Instead Ai busies himself with reading the menu, keeping track of Ranmaru and Camus’s volume levels. Hitting a certain decibel meant Ai needed to intervene.

“Please keep it down.” Ai says, not loud but strict. “We do not want to get kicked out. It would be unpleasant.”

“So--” Ranmaru says, ready to snap at Ai only to be met by Ai’s unwavering stare. Whatever Ranmaru was going to say seems to die in his throat and he just grouses under his breath aggressively.

A waitress nervously steps close. Ai gently reaches his foot out, places it on top of Ranmaru’s because he was too far to really touch at the moment. The threat was evident.

“Hello sirs, I’ll, uh, be your waitress today,” she says, gripping her notepad and pen tight. “Can I start you off with your drinks?”

“Thank you for your consideration,” Camus says with a charming smile. Ai thinks he sees sparkles pop around Camus. “I'll just have water, if you could.”

“O-of course!” she says with a blush, scribbling it down. Her gaze drifts to Ai next. “And you sir?”

“Green tea, please.” Ai says, and Reiji snorts.

“Isn't it a bit too warm for that, Ai-Ai?” Reiji teases as the waitress writes it down.

“For you, maybe.” is all Ai says.

“I'll have a lemonade.” Reiji orders with a playful roll of his eyes.

Ranmaru grunts out “water” like it hurts, but doesn't look at the waitress, just glares over Ai’s shoulder.

_ It's best that he's facing me, _ Ai thinks.

_ He's going to glare at you all day. _

_ I know. I don't care. _

_ You should. _

“--Ai-Ai, are you listening at all?” Reiji whines dramatically trying to throw himself across Ai’s shoulders.

Ai’s mouth opens, he feels the words brewing,  _ What the hell ‘Ji?, _ and his tongue tastes bitter. He feels a flinch jitter his legs.

_ No _ .

Ai stands up neatly, dislodging Reiji from his shoulders and forcing the older one to slide back into his seat.

“I need to use the restroom. Excuse me.”

Ai can feel them staring, feels Camus’s calculating eyes, Reiji’s worried ones. Ranmaru’s gaze feels the same as always.  _ At least that's familiar. _

Ai needed to have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i kinda gave ai my "have a really strong flare of anxiety then gently dissociate for three hours" thing. shrugs.
> 
> come hang out with me on my [tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) if u wanna, love u guys ;3c


	6. Ice Burns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite everything, Ai is still 15 and in need of guidance. He is sorta human, after all (he just doesn't get it quite yet).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hap thursday yall, i aint dead as a door nob. as some of u might know, irma turned sorta last-minute and missed hitting us as directly. she still took my fkin power for most of the week tho.  
> pls enjoy this chapter as i hurt my son with anxiety disorders.  
> edit: [ethras made fanart of ai's outfit in this chapter !!! ](https://twitter.com/BeedrilBaseball/status/913085848513503234)

~~~~

The bathroom is a single, one for both sexes noted by white cursive lettering on the doors and it’s perfect.

Ai clicks the lock shut once he's inside. the sound shooting up his arms like a shock. Of course, small shocks are absorbed easily by Ai; he had to be well insulated with all the wiring and tech in him. They didn't bother him anymore, they shouldn't. He didn’t  _ like _ feeling it.

Ai is sure he's thinking too hard over a sound. He doesn't want to think about what he came here for.

He takes the few steps necessary to get to the sink. The bathroom smells sweet, and it's dotted with light green circles in wave patterns across the walls.

Ai looks into the mirror above the sink, focuses on his own eyes.

“Don't do that.” he says into the silence, right hand coming up to grip right above his left elbow. “Don't-- I don't like it when you try and talk for me.”

Ai can hear his breath, even but quick, too quick. He hates it. He hates doing this. He hates that he  _ can _ hate.

_ You weren't going to answer _ , Aine says with certainty.

“You didn't give me a chance to!”

_ I want to talk _ , Aine mutters, slightly stiff, slightly desperate, and Ai’s mouth drifts open.  _ I miss talking. _

Ai’s right hand drifts over his mouth, breath stuttering. Quiet. He had to be quiet.

Everything feels like a cluster in his head, foggier than just Aine’s weight on his psyche, and Ai just presses his mouth harder as he wheezes.

Anxiety, so much anxiety and fear and its cloying and choking him and  _ drowning _ \--

This wasn't working. Talking to Aine like this, confronting him, worked sometimes; made him quiet and apologetic and kind, made Aine bearable for a few weeks. But he could still feel the push and pull in his head among the rest of the noise, sharp and impossible to ignore.

Ai fumbles for his phone, fingers working on autopilot as the image in the mirror warps.

He hears it ring once, twice--

“Ai?” comes from the end of the line, the sound of pen scratching paper faint.

“Doctor,” Ai whispers. “Doctor, I think I'm having-- I don't know, I--”

The doctor makes a soft noise, distressed but attempting to be soothing. The background noise stops.

“Ai, Ai, you're not making any sense. Where are you? I'll pick you up.”

Ai hiccups and realizes that the warping in the mirror is caused by his watering eyes. Nothing is making  _ any _ sense. Briefly, Ai wonders if this is  _ human _ , being lost in your own head and not knowing why. He wonders if he even  _ wants _ to be human. He wonders if he even wants to still have a  _ consciousness _ after this.

It hadn’t been this bad in  _ years _ .

“I’m out with-- with the, the rest of Quartet Night. In a restaurant. If I leave, they might-- I don't know.” Ai says, cheek pressed tight against his phone. He feels off kilter, like nothing is adding up right.

He doesn't understand why.

Ai decides he won’t tell the doctor about his thoughts. He was too much of a mess to drop more stress onto him.The doctor already did so much for Ai.

“It's okay Ai,” the doctor insists. “Tell them I suddenly need you, and that you can't stay. You can come back to the lab with me.”

_ The lab. _ Ai feels himself sigh, the breath whisking out some pressure from his chest.

“Okay,” Ai says, feeling a small weight lift off of him. “Okay, I'll send you the address.”

“I'll be there soon, Ai.”

Ai hangs up, still watching the mirror. His vision still hadn't cleared up but he still manages to send doctor Kisaragi the cafe address.

Ai washes his face, fixes his sleeves, and steps back out with his neutral expression. He avoids his own reflection.

When he reaches the table, he notices that his tea is already at his seat and that Reiji is chattering nonstop into Ranmaru’s ear.

“I apologize for taking so long, I got a call.” Ai says as he sits, fingers curling around his cup but not lifting it just yet. “I have to attend to some business so I cannot stay to eat.”

“Aw, Ai-Ai, do you have to go?” Reiji whines, leaning closer in a slightly desperate move.

“I do.” Ai replies before finally bringing his mug up for a sip. It burns his lips and all the way down his throat, a heated path to focus on.

He feels a little bit more centered.

“Are you not gonna eat anything?” Ranmaru asks suddenly, voice gruff. Ai tilts his head a little to the side, cup still hiding the bottom half of his face. “We already ordered but still.”

“No, I will not be ordering any food. I am being picked up soon and should be ready to go.”

Ranmaru’s face hits the threshold between “concerned” and “ready to force food down Ai’s throat”. It occurs to Ai that they had never seen him  _ eat _ before.

“Are you going to do idol work, Ai?” Camus asks suddenly.

Ai hesitates.

“I have a doctor’s appointment.” Ai says finally. “I missed a checkup due to work and must make it up. Consistency is key.”

Ai didn't lie often-- he didn't see it as necessary at all. But he wasn't sure how to explain “I need to have a long winded conversation about human emotions because I'm an AI and don't fully comprehend what's going on” to them without giving up the whole “AI” bit. Lying to Camus in particular is hard, not only because Camus could smell a lie a mile away but because he just  _ commanded _ honesty.

Thinking on it, Ai decides he needs to try and vet a little faster because this was becoming a bit of a mess.

“Health is very important.” Camus replies, a small acquiesce to balance Reiji's nonstop whining.

“But Ai, we  _ just _ got here!”

“Maybe we can celebrate again soon.” Ai says.

(He was unbearably weak to Reiji’s moods. It is so,  _ so _ incredibly Aine’s fault.)

Ai jolts, slightly, when he feels a foot tap his own lightly. He blows a breath across the top of his tea, glancing up at Ranmaru. Ranmaru isn't looking at Ai, instead watching Reiji complain with a blank look. Ai taps the foot back, watches as Ranmaru tenses up a bit before his shoulders relax a little.

“Camus,” Ai starts quietly, turning to face Camus, foot bumping Ranmaru’s again. “How are you constantly so passionate about certain topics? It is very interesting to me.”

It's the perfect topic. Camus starts sparkling-- it looks like pops of ice crackling across the air-- and flips his hair back. He starts monologuing about the wonders of the world and the amazing idol work he does, even standing up with a foot on his seat at one point. There are women gushing over him within minutes, which Ai is sure is fueling the rising dramatics.

(He keeps his feet tangled with Ranmaru’s under the table, keeping him from starting an argument. Ai needs the white noise of Camus’s voice, needs the reassurance that he knows what Camus is going to say. Arguments cause a spiral of “unknowns” and Ai feels too tired for that. At most, Ranmaru growls but seems to entertain himself with trying to step on Ai’s foot. He manages to get Ai twice amongst the dozens of times Ai manages to tap his foot.)

Reiji starts his own passionate monologue to go with Camus’s and is starting to get attention from some of the women in the shop when Ai’s phone vibrates with a text.

[I'm outside.]

Ai takes the final sip from his tea before setting it down.

“I am leaving,” he says softly. Ranmaru grunts at him as he stands.

“Bye Ai-Ai!” Reiji says, interrupting himself before going right back into the fray of women he's charming.

Camus also has women all around him. He spares a nod at Ai as he exits the shop.

* * *

Ai could probably tell what car was doctor Kisaragi’s with his eyes closed-- it was silver and small, common even, but Ai knew it well. Sliding into the passenger seat silently, he feels the cushions curling into his spine as he clicks his seatbelt on.

“Hello Ai,” the doctor says and despite his worry, he sounds unbearably fond. “I feel like I haven't seen you in forever!”

“It's only been a week, doctor.” Ai replies quietly. “But I'm also happy to see you.”

Doctor Kisaragi pats Ai’s head once before pulling back into traffic smoothly. As soon as Ai sees the cafe fade into the distance, Ai melts into the seat and holds his hot face in his hands.

“I feel-- awful, doctor.” Ai whispers, scrubbing his eyes. “I was doing so well.”

“Will you tell me what happened?” he asks kindly.

Everything about doctor Kisaragi was kindly, if serious. He was dedicated to his work, a genius at robotics and coding and an innovator. But he had always managed to be warm towards Ai, even while busy under Shining’s bizarre, constant requests.

It was familiar and Ai peeks over his hands to look at the doctor.

“We sang today,” Ai begins, dropping one hand to pick at his pants. The doctor tended to do the same when he was nervous of uncomfortable. “And Shining Saotome was there, of course. And he said that I didn't disappoint.”

Ai bites his lip.

It's all so silly now, in Ai’s head. The doctor hums, purses his lips.

“That seems a bit on the nose for Shining.”

“He knows that I can't disappoint.” Ai whispers, free hand dropping to his lip. “ _ I can't _ .”

The doctor takes a deep breath, shoulders stiffening and spine straightening out. He always got like this when  _ Ai _ got like this. Ai isn't looking, instead biting his thumbnail nervously as he stares at the passing scenery.

“Ai. . .” the doctor sighs out, and pauses before shaking his head. “Ai, I'm working on some wiring for a new project. When we get to the lab, get changed and help me, yeah? I keep getting shocked.”

“Okay,” Ai says, dropping his hand to his lap. “Okay, what is it?”

“It's a specialized motor. . .”

* * *

Ai sits comfortably on the doctor’s office chair, worn and torn but patched up. The doctor had forced Ai to change out of his stiff white outfit-- “Nobody does science in suits Ai, especially not when  _ I'm _ the one running the lab and  _ you're _ the one who's working with me!”-- and switch into a spare sweater and sweatpants combination that stayed in the lab just in case.

(Half of Ai’s wardrobe was actually boxed away in a closet in the lab. His comfiest clothes stayed here because it was the only place Ai allowed himself to be slobbish at.)

The purple and white polka dotted fuzzy sweater had its sleeves pushed up around Ai’s elbows as he carefully fuses wires and screws the motor together. The doctor is hunched over his desk, refusing to sit as he scribbled equations onto a legal pad and transferred some of the answers onto a whiteboard on the wall. Doctor Kisaragi had always been restless, unable to stand still if he could help it during work.

He reads off an equation without looking up. Ai tells him the answer, leaning closer to the motor to get to a particularly tricky bit. The doctor writes the answer on the whiteboard without hesitating.

Ai finishes the wiring in the motor and puts it together, screwing it shut.

“Finished. We have to try it, but it is completed for now.”

The doctor hums and straightens out, stretching. His spine cracks and Ai snorts, placing the motor further away from the edge of the table and turning his chair to face the doctor. Doctor Kisaragi drags another desk chair-- newer, only a few years old with two lilac patches on the arms.

“Switch?”

Ai gets up and waddles over, legs slightly numb from sitting still for so long. He settles in his seat, legs crossed under him. The doctor settles into his own chair comfortably.

“So,” he says, taking off his glasses and scrubbing his eyes. “How about you tell me about today, hmm?”

Ai rests his elbows on his knees, hunching over to cradle his face gently.

“I told you in the car about Shining’s comment.” Ai starts, clearing his throat. “It. . . made me feel anxious. I was trying to focus but I couldn't. In the end, everyone agreed to go out to eat, and I tried to, ah, come back. But I couldn't, and Kotobuki was asking me if I was paying attention.”

Ai hunches in on himself some more, now avoiding the doctor's eyes.

“I shouldn't have let it upset me, because it  _ is _ progress. But Aine almost-- almost managed to speak through me. And I--” he quiets down, voice low. “--and I hated it.”

Silence sweeps across the lab. Ai picks at the seams of his ratty sweatpants, fingers flourishing.

“I know that's what I'm here to do,” Ai says finally. “I know that I'm supposed to aid the process of waking Aine up. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted so badly. It's what I was made to do. I'll try better next time, I promise.”

“Ai,” the doctor murmurs, scooting his chair closer to put his hands on Ai’s shoulders. “Ai, its okay. You've grown up so much over the years, and  _ I'm _ sorry I never spoke to you more about it. Maybe when I made you, you were just  _ made _ for a  _ purpose _ . But you've grown, you're becoming a person despite everything. It's okay to be upset sometimes.”

There's a little, desperate tone to the doctor's voice and Ai’s resolve crumples. Doctor Kisaragi was kind, too kind, and Ai didn't like the grief-stricken look on his face; it had been so  _ long _ since the doctor had looked at him with such sadness. Ai swallowed his protests.

Ai didn't understand, not really, why he just seemed to continually upset Doctor Kisaragi. He was slow that way. Ai wasn't going to say anything to make it any worse.

“Okay, doctor.” Ai says, placing his hands on the doctor’s outstretched arms. “I'll take your word for it.”

Doctor Kisaragi doesn't look any happier. He stands, takes Ai’s hands and pulls  _ him _ to stand. Ai obeys mindlessly.

Then, Doctor Kisaragi hugs Ai tight. Ai’s face is buried into the doctor’s shoulder eyes wide.

“I'm sorry,” the doctor says.

“Don't be,” Ai whispers “I owe you everything. Please don't be sorry.”

The doctor says nothing, just hugs Ai tighter.

Ai hugs him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man do u guys ever get anxiety over something, and after its all over, ur like, that was dumb? bc me too ai me too.  
> IF you wanna hear my reasoning for stuff i do in this fic, just go ask me on [tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) and ill dutifully answer u bc i like to talk a lot abt this fic  
> also u guys are so great, thank u so much, i love u all


	7. Fizzing Wires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go wrong, but the world can right itself again-- slowly but surely, slowly but surely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy thursday yall, and happy Rosh Hashanah to those who celebrate! I've been told "Shana tovah" is an appropriate greeting, but since I'm unsure I'm just stick to english lol. I also speak spanish but like, the struggle it real with spelling
> 
> this chapter is WORDY af its like 4000+ words which is easily like double the beginning chapters of this fic.
> 
> pls tell me if u see anything worded weird or wrong, im tired af and have been editing this chapter for like 2 days and my brain is frita

As spring crawls along, Ai runs out of time. Quartet Night was at a photoshoot, starting P.R. at Shining’s request, when Ai hears a distinct  _ pop _ and  _ sizzle _ and suddenly, his arm feels very,  _ very _ heavy. He’s glad they had all gotten separate trailers to change in.

“Shoot,” he says emphatically to keep himself from sprawling into curses.

_ Fucking fuck, _ Aine says even more emphatically. It’s the first time Aine has spoken in weeks. Ai flinches.

Ai was not in a good mood, not lately at least. It felt like Shining Saotome was putting more and more pressure on Ai specifically, leaving him in a bit of a dizzy mess inside; anxiety crawled up his throat at the mere thought. Doctor Kisaragi had been working double the amount lately too, leaving little time for chatter as he was getting everything ready for a conference he was going to that week. Which he had already departed to. And wouldn't be back from until Friday.  _ It was only Tuesday _ .

“I'm  _ so _ . . . unbearably cross right now.” Ai mutters to no one in particular, single handedly doing the buttons on his white jacket to help keep the arm in place more easily. “I have to go to the lab,  _ soon _ .”

_ Will you get the chance? _

“I'll have to try.”

There's an excited knock on his trailer door. Ai sighs.

_ No cursing? _

_ No. _

“Ai-Ai! Are you ready? We’re waiting~!” Reiji sing-songs.

Ai bites his lip, glancing at the door.

_ I guess its time. _

“Come in.” Ai says, holding his left arm up with his right hand.

Reiji throws the door open and bounces inside, Ranmaru and Camus not far behind.

“Close the door, please.” Ai says, and when the door shuts Ai sighs. “I am having a bit of an. . . emergency.”

“Are you okay Ai?” Reiji asks, stepping closer, brows furrowed.

“I need to get to Doctor Kisaragi’s lab. It is imperative that I go as soon as possible.”

“Why?” Camus asks, straightforward.

Ai closes his eyes for a moment.

_ Tell them. It'll be okay. _

“I am an android,” Ai says finally, opening his eyes and staring at them. “And my arm is malfunctioning. I need to fix it.”

“. . .  _ What _ .” Ranmaru says. “ _ What the fuck _ ? Are you nuts?”

Ai let's go of his left arm, let's it slide down his sleeve distressingly low.

“I would hope not.” Ai says dryly, watching the width of his shoulder catching on the middle of the sleeve and finally stopping. He jiggles it to get his very distressing point across. “I need to fix it. And I trust you three.  _ Please _ help me hide it until I can fix it.”

Reiji looks  _ very _ pale, ready to fall over at any moment. Ranmaru is staring at Ai’s arm with pursed lips, blinking slowly. Camus’s cool façade was holding up, and Camus and Ai lock eyes.

“Holy shit,” Ranmaru breathes out.

“We’ll help.” Camus says suddenly, reaching out to help Ai wrestle the arm back up to a normal position.

“Thank you.” Ai murmurs gratefully, holding his arm back into the right position with his right hand.

“Of course.” Camus replies.

“Yeah, yeah okay, shit.” Ranmaru mumbles. “What the fuck? This-- this is my life now.”

Reiji still looks dazed. Ai frowns in concern as Aine stays tremulously quiet, seemingly lying in wait.

“Kotobuki?” Ai asks, stepping closer to him. Reiji takes a step back, so Ai mirrors him. “I really do need your help. Please.”

Reiji blinks, squares his shoulders.

“Y. . . yeah. I'll-- I'll drive, just, just tell me the address.” he says, pushing his hat down a tad.

Ai manages a small smile.

* * *

The paparazzi  _ really _ wants pictures of them, and they want questions answered, and they want some inside information. Ai has Ranmaru pressed against his left arm, glaring for all its worth. Some of the paparazzi freeze up. Ai feels a little hysterical at the pressure because now his shoulder is shooting signals up and down, some painful and some making him want to jitter and some completely numbing his arm out.

Reiji is charming the pants off of the press with mindless dribble, talking them in energetic circles as he walks ahead. Camus is taking the rear, cool and collected and locking questions out with his callous nature.

Getting into the car is difficult. Ranmaru slides into the backseat first, and Ai slides in right after and shuts the door with his right hand. Ranmaru pressed his elbow against Ai’s left shoulder, keeping it in place nonchalantly. Ai shivers as the pressure makes the wires tangle and spark, sending wild signals up to his head and making him dizzy with heat.

By the time Reiji has convinced the paparazzi that they should go take pictures of the nearby pound for some reason and starts the car up, Ai can feel whorls of color staining his cheeks.

Once they're far enough to be safe, Ranmaru drops his arm away from Ai’s.

Ai wheezes quietly, trying to keep it under his breath. He fails.

Ranmaru looks thoroughly freaked out. Nobody up front makes a noise, but Ai can see Reiji grip the steering wheel tighter.

“Sorry.” Ai says. “My sensors are going a little haywire. They’re sending mixed signals. It’s hard to process.”

The mixed signals are making him lose his tongue, too. Aine’s subtle suggestions were starting to slip through, tinting Ai’s words with loose slang and sharp syllables. He kind of wants to yell at Aine.

Ai was  _ not _ going to cry in a car full of people because he was supposedly having  _ emotions  _ despite the fact he kind of wants to. He really needs to fix this. He needs Aine to shut the hell up. He needs Aine to, specifically,  _ stop trying to talk _ . It felt like a bird chirping, chirping endlessly since he told the other three about his android status.

He chalks it up to the fuzziness in his head making him irritable.

Ai wants to talk out loud with Aine again. He does it whenever he's alone, it being easier to differentiate who  _ he _ is and who  _ Aine _ is when one is in his head and the other is out loud. Trapped in a car full of people makes it impossible.

(He trusts them, to a degree. He just can't trust them with  _ Aine _ .)

_ You're giving me a migraine, _ Ai thinks loudly.  _ Stop it. _

_ You're hurt. Its distressing. I talk when I'm distressed! _

Ai tilts his head to watch the scenery flit by, making note of familiar streets and shops. It's soothing, the feeling of going to the lab allowing Ai to relax back in his seat despite the constant jolts.

Reiji parks in front of the lab despite the tight fit-- there was only 4 small spots, hastily put there because Doctor Kisaragi had completely forgotten  _ parking _ when getting the lab built.

Ai is quick to get out, pulling the key from his back pocket and unlocking the metal door. Ai tucks the key away as the steps into the little waiting room at the front of the lab. That's when he notices that nobody had followed him in.

Ai gives the car a curious look where Camus, Reiji, and Ranmaru are all talking-- Reiji making wide hand gestures and bouncing the car around animatedly. Ai decides to leave the door slightly open for them; the front lobby was kind enough to visitors if they didn’t want to see Ai work, and without the passcode to the elevators there’s nothing else they could possibly stumble into.

Ai’s love hate relationship with the lab’s elevator stops him from ever going into it of his own will.

Tapping in the pass code to get into the actual lab part of the building, Ai lets out a sigh at the clutter. The lab had never been very  _ organized _ to start, but in his haste Doctor Kisaragi had left everything in disarray. With an eye roll, Ai unbuttons his jacket and let's it clatter to the floor, arm and all.

“Socket damage first,” Ai murmurs out loud, looking amongst the tables for tools and piling them onto his own,  _ much _ neater, personal lab table.

(Ai had lined the table with washi tape when he was 11, blue and white polka dots, and it had just become a  _ thing _ . Every time the tape peeled, the doctor would leave a fresh roll on the table for Ai to fix. There was a roll on it now-- the old green floral tape from the winter was scratched, and the sparkly red and black chevron still in plastic wrap makes Ai smile even as he’s forced to mutilate his own shoulder. He'd do it soon.)

He’s midway through wrestling his detached arm from his jacket when there's a little knock on the lab door. Ai pauses, puts the limb down delicately to go open the door. Camus blinks.

“You're a sight.” he says.

Ai shrugs, the motion awkward, but he steps back to let Camus in.

“I am in a bit of a frenzy. Where are Kotobuki and Kurosaki?”

“They decided to go get food.”

Ai purses his lips and trots back to his table, returning to his arm. Camus is a silent figure behind him, watching impassively.

“Could you help me pull it out of the sleeve?” Ai asks.

Camus nods and holds the jacket still, letting Ai finally wiggle the limb free. Even Camus can't keep a neutral expression at the sight.

“Thank you.” Ai says, taking the jacket and sloppily draping it over the back of his desk chair. “I apologize for surprising you with this. I was planning on telling all of you, but this emergency came up before I could.”

“We all have our secrets, I suppose.” Camus replies, watching with morbid fascination as Ai works on the wiring and padding of his arm.

“If you do not mind me asking, Camus, what is yours?”

Camus almost smiles. Instead, he places his hand on the lab table, flat. Frost curls around his hand and across the table. Ai breathes out a little “oh!”, immediately fascinated. The frost melts away and leaves no water. Ai leans in despite himself, feeling every inch of his mind muddle with intrigue.

_ Holy fucking shit? _

“That's amazing.” Ai says, looking up at Camus with a little head tilt before returning  to reparations. “Have you always been able to do that?”

* * *

When Reiji and Ranmaru return, arms laden with bags of food, Reiji looks almost okay again.

They're greeted by Camus’s voice weaving a story of a palace of ice as tall as the sky and a silk queen with a dedicated kingdom, while Ai is cleaning the lab up with a slightly jerky left arm.

“Hey!” Reiji says, not nearly as loud as usual but still bubbly. “We bought  _ all _ kinds of food, and we got enough for everyone!”

“Ah, thank you.” Ai says without looking up. “The main table is clear for you to place the food on.”

Just then, Ai’s phone rings-- it sounds like wind chimes, out of place in the lab. Ai picks up, holding it between his shoulder and cheek.

“Doctor Kisaragi,” Ai says, voice tinged with something slightly emotional despite his neutral expression. “You've chosen an opportune time for a call.”

Ai is floating between closets and rooms and sort-of-rooms in his quest for organization, parts of his conversation lost to distance. Ranmaru and Camus are quietly bickering as Camus explains, again, about his kingdom and abilities and Ranmaru, again, decides his life is too weird to be real. By the time they realize Reiji has been bizarrely silent, Reiji has made his way through three styrofoam containers-- two of Indian food, and one of stir fry.

“Reiji slow down!” Ranmaru yelps, pulling the box from Reiji’s hands.

Reiji blinks and pouts.

“Give it back!” he whines, reaching for the food. Ranmaru casually holds it above his own head.

“Would you slow down? The rest of us have to eat too!”

“I bought extra!”

Ai returns, saying his goodbye’s as he watches Reiji try to reach Ranmaru’s grip. Reiji’s also trying to give Ranmaru puppy eyes as he whines, but Ranmaru just steps back every time Reiji gets close.

“I have a younger sister, that's not gonna work!”

“What is going on?” Ai asks, phone held loosely in his fist.

“Reiji was eating all of the food.” Camus teases, watching with amusement as Ranmaru and Reiji waltz around the table in a jagged pattern.

“I was not!” Reiji cries out, pouting.

“You ate two boxes back to back!” Ranmaru yells in return.

“There's  _ a lot _ of food!”

“That doesn't excuse you! Nobody else has eaten either!”

It has to be because they're in the lab, somewhere that felt like a home to Ai if he'd ever had one. Everything was  _ too _ familiar,  _ too _ much of a comfort to stop the bubbling of a small laugh from pouring out of Ai’s mouth. Reiji stops, stares as Ai drifts towards some cabinets and pulls out disposable plates and utensils.

(The doctor was well stocked considering how little he really went to his apartment; Ai was sure the place was collecting dust at this rate. The doctor was in for some spring cleaning once he got back.)

“Ai. . .” Reiji says, voice low, before squealing and throwing his arms around Ai excitedly. “Ai-Ai, you have the cutest laugh!  _ Everything _ about you is musical!”

“Thank you?” Ai replies, dropping the things he’s gathered next to the food. “There isn’t very much to drink in the lab due to, ah--”

Aine giggles in Ai’s head. Ai picks at his pants for a split second.

“--the Doctor’s specific diet. We mostly stock water and tea because of it.”

“We bought some sodas.” Ranmaru offers. “I say some but I think Reiji can feed a small army with everything he bought. There’s more in the car.”

“. . .There’s  _ more _ ?” Camus asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh my god, shut up!” Reiji whines, scrubbing his cheek against Ai’s hair. “Ai-Ai, Camus and Ranmaru are bullying me! Make them stooooop!”

Ai glances up, then flicks his gaze towards Camus whose holding his hands up in surrender, before landing on Ranmaru. Ranmaru shrugs and drops Reiji’s half-eaten container onto the table, crossing his arms casually.

“Don't look at me, I'm just being honest here.”

“Well,” Ai says, blinking owlishly. “Then I do not see why we cannot all eat already. I will grab some glasses for the drinks.”

Reiji coos happily, squeezing Ai around the shoulders before freezing up and jumping away.

“I just pressed onto your bad shoulder didn’t I? I'm so sorry!”

“It did not hurt,” Ai insists. “My shoulder is fixed now.”

A little upwards twist of the lip is all it takes to encourage Reiji before Ai drifts back into the depths of the lab, looking for cups.

_ He stress eats _ , Aine says with an agitated sigh.

“I can see,” Ai replies under his breath. “Watching your band mate pop off their shoulder  _ can _ be described as stressful, in his defense.”

_ He's always done it. I thought maybe it'd be different now. _

Ai hums quietly, climbing onto a bulky office printer to reach a particularly high cabinet. As he rustles around in it, plucking some errant tech and dropping it onto the floor, he can feel Aine thinking.

_ I'm still. . . mad at him, inside. I don't want to be, _ he says finally.  _ But then I remember and I hate him all over again _ .

“You have time to sort it out.” Ai says into the cabinet, finally managing to grab a plastic bag of disposable cups that looks pristine. “And when you wake up, you'll have time too.”

_ Yeah _ , Aine says without much conviction.

Ai returns to the main room with his find, tearing open the packaging with a deft flick of his nails. The only chairs are the two office chairs stuffed far in the back of the lab, but none of Ai’s guests seem to mind standing. At least Reiji has actually made himself a  _ plate _ instead of eating straight from the containers.

“--And since I totally forgot to ask I just kinda got a lot of everything.” Reiji is saying before stuffing a dumpling into his mouth.

“I didn't even know there were that many take out places around here.” Ranmaru says with an eye roll.

“There are quite a few.” Ai butts in, placing the cups on one of the last empty spaces on the table. “I used to wonder if it was, ah,  _ strategic _ planning on the doctor’s part. I was correct.”

There's a pause where Reiji digs out four cups, and Camus gracefully pulls out bottle after bottle of drink from one of the bags. He covers them in frost, and it doesn't melt when under Reiji’s fingers even as he grabs one to pour into his own cup. Reiji and Camus drift closer together with their efforts, and Ai grabs a plate and slides closer towards Ranmaru.

There's a synchronicity to it all; Ranmaru opens his stance so that Ai can put some food on his plate, Reiji starts asking everyone what they want to drink in his cheery voice, and Camus helpfully chills the cups while answering shortly. Ai pulls away a little only for Ranmaru to roll his eyes again and pile something else onto his plate with a gruff “you'll like it”.

“So Ai,” Camus starts, and Ranmaru gives Camus a glare. Ai gently elbows Ranmaru’s arm as he grabs his cup. “Doctor Kisaragi made you?”

“Yes.” Ai replies, shooting Ranmaru a relaxed look.

“Why?”

Ai sips his drink, feeling Aine rustle and “move” in his head.

“I was created to be an idol.” Ai says. “And I am. I believe I've been efficient in that endeavour.”

“Do you like it?” Reiji blurts out, hand hovering over his mouth. “Being an idol, I mean, do you like it?”

Ai pauses. Aine goes into a frenzy. Ai blinks and looks down at his plate to help focus his blurry vision.

_ Stop _

“I. . . guess.” Ai says slowly, trying to ignore Aine’s little outbreak of cursing and hysterics. “Nobody has ever really asked me before. But I assume I like it since I was made for idol work.”

A small silence descends onto the room and Ai ignores it, taking a bite of his food and humming pleasantly under his breath. He's mostly listening to Aine rant about the idol industry, crying, wheezing its horrors. Ai knows them well. It never fails to make Ai sway from the pain, but Ai props himself on Ranmaru a little, as casual as possible, and hopes he can keep still.

“Ai. . .” Ranmaru starts.

“I do not dislike it,” Ai says with a shrug and  _ that _ gets Aine to quiet down; a minor miracle in the making. “It is difficult and frustrating, but I think I understand it now. It is. . . nice, you could say, to sing for others. And I think I  _ am _ enthralled with the difficult in the end; it is fulfilling to be successful despite all the strain. I may not fully know yet if I enjoy being an idol outside of expectation, but I do enjoy the triumph of always doing better.”

Reiji makes a quiet, choked noise from deep in his chest. Ai powers on because for once, Aine is actually calming down at Ai’s words. It was a rare occurrence.

“In any case, I  _ am _ good at idol work. I do not see why I would  _ not _ want to be an idol otherwise.”

Ai isn't sure he's getting his point across despite his clear vocabulary. Everyone is looking at him with varying degrees of distress-- Reiji looking the most distraught of all-- and Ai feels himself balk. He isn’t even sure he  _ can _ balk when there’s nothing else to be  _ done _ but it fit with Ai’s mood.

Ai isn’t sure there’s anything he  _ can _ do after being so clear. Instead, he silently takes a bite of food, eyes dropping to the table because everyone is staring in the worst way. Ai can’t help but remember being ten and trapped in an elevator all over again; the oppressive feel of something constantly restraining him, keeping him from moving along, forcing his hand into staying still.

Aine doesn’t help. He may have gone silent but his mood is thick in Ai’s head.

Nothing is really helping.

It was turning out to be a bad week after all.

Ai’s phone goes off again-- of course when he checks, it's the doctor, and Ai has never been so grateful.

“Doctor,” Ai says with a sigh as he puts his plate down. “Nothing has changed in the last ten minutes. I promise.”

Doctor Kisaragi huffs, says “I  _ know _ but--” in his ever-mixed tone, ever restless voice, and it settles the rough feeling in Ai’s chest a little. Camus and Reiji have their heads bowed together, and Ai isn't sure why Ranmaru hasn't joined them. His eyes are trained on Ai, intense and casual all in one somehow; Ai leans his hip against the table, turns to look at Ranmaru right back with a raised eyebrow.

Ranmaru, very surprisingly, doesn't rise to Ai’s bait. He's still and quiet and watches and Ai isn't sure how he's supposed to  _ feel _ about it.

_ Nothing at all, preferably. _

“Doctor I don't understand your concern,” Ai finally says to Doctor Kisaragi’s rambling, looking at each member of Quartet Night as he speaks. “They are all perfectly kind, capable people. I have no doubt that they'll keep the secret.”

“I know, I know.” the doctor replies. “I trust your judgment. But I can't help but worry regardless. You know your safety is important to me.”

Ai is smiling, small and ridiculous and teasing despite the fact the doctor can't see him. It was an automatic reaction after five years of dealing with the doctor’s protective streak.

“I know. Your safety is important to me too, but you still complain when I get you healthy food.”

That rouses and half-laugh, half-groan from Doctor Kisaragi and Ai knows he said the right thing; even over the phone, the doctor seems more at peace. If Ai was actually trying to make jokes, the doctor would be reassured.

“Evil robot,” Doctor Kisaragi teases.

“You made me.” Ai teases back. “Please focus on the conference, and enjoy your time out.”

“I will Ai. I'll call you tomorrow, okay? Stay safe.”

“Okay, stay safe.” Ai echoes before hanging up and turning his full attention to Ranmaru. “Yes?”

“You'll be fine.” Ranmaru says suddenly, loud enough to distract Camus and Reiji from their quiet conversation. “No need to worry about your idol career, twerp.”

With that, Ranmaru rests his arm over Ai’s head despite only being an inch or two taller; it shakes Ai’s ponytail a little lower, and Ai bats at Ranmaru’s hand.

“Get off.” Ai says, trying to duck away.

“Nope.” Ranmaru replies, keeping his arm steady somehow.

_ Retaliation _ !, Aine says, weak but still a touch playful. Ai finds himself disliking  _ exhaustion _ Aine despite all the grief he’d been causing earlier.

Ai grunts and smoothly manages to steal Ranmaru's plate from his free hand, turning to keep it away from him. Ai takes the fork, digs up a large chunk of food, and eats it all while Ranmaru tries to take it back.

“ _ Hey _ !” Ranmaru yelps, and Ai’s lips quirk up; he's had practice taking food from the doctor often enough to effectively dodge Ranmaru's attempts to take his food back.

“. . . Justice for my food!” Reiji yells, not quite back to his full bounce but close enough to draw a head tilt from Camus. “How's it feel to be robbed, Ran-Ran!”

Ranmaru groans and growls under his breath, but Ai isn't convinced as he bobs and weaves and eats. Ranmaru does eventually manage to win his plate back-- albeit, half eaten-- with his chest pressed against Ai's back, arms cast over Ai’s shoulders with his food back in hand. Ai feels him huff against his hair and move clear across the table. He's a little flushed, a little flustered, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He seems more at ease than Reiji, less closed off than Camus; it's not a combination he wears often.

_ It looks good on him. _

Ai thinks that was him. Ai hopes it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i write really ooc pls kill me  
> if u guys wanna chitchat or ask spoilery things, hit me up on my [tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/)  
> I lOVE talking to u guys and half the comments on this fic is just me replying and having fun w u guys so dont b afraid to shoot any messages/comments at me <3!  
> i feel like i forgot to add something to my notes but i cant remember if i have so??


	8. Eminence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting up for a waltz doesn't always feel like the beginning of the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hap thursday yall!
> 
> If anyone makes anything for this fic like ethras did for ch 6, u can send it to me/tag me in it on tumblr or submit it bc i will cry and love u forever

The whole idea seems viable, and Ai is  _ very _ surprised Shining Saotome has come up with such a well rounded idea. He's sure Ryuya and Ringo had a hand in its more  _ normal _ nature; if not, it was an actual miracle that Shining hadn’t just thrown the two bands on a deserted island and left them alone. Starish and Quartet Night at the Academy, in an odd tutoring style pair up. Definitely Ryuya and Ringo’s hands.

_ Ryuga and Ringo have a hand in each other, _ Aine snorts and Ai has to hold back his eye roll with such intensity he almost twitches.

_ Please stop. Why do you have to constantly gossip like you're still in highschool? _

_ Ryuga was a senior to me, _ Aine whines, _ I am being an  _ _ involved _ _ junior! _

_ He's a teacher! _

_ You're young! _

“Mikaze!”

Ai doesn't startle, having been half-listening amidst his argument with Aine. It was a long-familiar headspace.

“Yes?”

“You will be taking on Syo Kurusu and Natsuki Shinomiya!” Shining booms and Ai nods once.

_ This is exciting! Ai-Ai, you're gonna be a senp- _ _ Ai _ _! _

Ai purses his lips to stop from laughing at Aine’s stupid tone. He had been more pleasant lately, being ridiculous instead of angry, and Ai isn't sure what’s made him change.

“Mikaze,” Shining continues and Ai tilts his head a little. “I sent a few requests to the doctor, and he will need your help. I'm relying on you to get those done as soon as possible!”

“Of course. I'll do my best.” Ai replies, feeling prickles on the back of his neck.

The pressure had yet to lighten up.

Ranmaru seems upset, or at least a bit agitated at what Shining has told him. He seems as flighty as ever, ready to snap but there's nobody  _ to _ snap at; Ai is too far away to ask or to even really tell what's going on. Camus is to Ai's right, Reiji to his left, to keep the two apart.

 Meetings with Shining always left them more willing to fight.

When they're dismissed, Ai naturally gravitates towards Ranmaru and Reiji moves towards Camus. It had become a frequent combination after meetings and Reiji began letting his mouth run off to soften the tension some. Eventually they all find themselves at their parallel couches.

“--And I don't know,” Reiji’s saying as he sprawls out next to Camus. “But this is just gonna be one big learning opportunity!”

“I expect my juniors to be worth the hassle.” Ai says, crossing his legs and leaning back. “I won't put up with less.”

“Of course you wouldn't,” Camus says. “Neither would I.”

“You don't already have to be hard on them!” Reiji whines, pouting. “We haven't even  _ met _ them!”

“When will we?” Ranmaru asks, breaking his silence. He doesn't look more at ease, but he  _ is _ pressing his shoulders back and letting Ai poke him with the tip of his boots.

“At their debut concert; Shining believes we should be allowed to vet them before fully committing.” Ai replies. “I do not see the point though; if he already put his orders through doctor Kisaragi, he is sure or willing to force us.”

_ It  _ _ is _ _ how Shining always functioned. _

_ Oh, I know. _

Camus makes a little noise, propping his elbow on the couch’s arm. Ai tilts his head.

“He's insufferable.” Camus states, voice plain with disdain.

“I have been meaning to ask-- why are you here?” Ai asks. “You do not seem to like Shining Saotome’s, ah, teaching style very much.”

“He's tenacious, exaggerated, has no grace, nor any finesse,” Camus lists off, causing Reiji to grimace and Ranmaru to snort. “But he produces some of the greatest idols in the world. That is commendable in of itself.”

_ That's a real elegant way to call Shiny a dickwad _ , Aine says, and Ai rubs his eye a little to ward off a laugh. He didn't usually indulge in Aine’s sense of humor, but exhaustion did funny things to a being.

“Aw c’mon, he's not  _ that _ bad! Have some faith!” Reiji whines, leaning into Camus’s space.

“You're being annoying.”

“Am not!”

Reiji and Camus dissolve into mindless bickering-- not nearly as acidic as Ranmaru, which was good-- and Ai turns his attention to Ranmaru instead. He's been uncharacteristically quiet; usually after a meeting, he was ready to rip into an argument on the fly.

“Kurosaki.” Ai says.

“Mikaze.” Ranmaru says back, slightly mocking.

“You seem concerned. Why?”

Ranmaru growls but Ai stays unintimidated. Ranmaru had always been an interesting subject in Ai’s eyes-- Reiji was someone that, despite just meeting him, had become intimately familiar in Ai’s head through Aine’s stories. Camus was hard to crack because of his uncanny ability to never display genuine feelings and be  _ okay _ with that. Ranmaru tried to keep cool, but often exploded and never seemed to regret it; it was an odd mix that was easy yet intriguing for Ai to dissect. That’s what made Ranmaru such a  _ fun _ subject to poke at when Ai was curious.

“I am unmoved.” Ai replies, slightly playful, mostly serious.

“Are you ever moved?” Ranmaru says as he turns towards Ai a bit.

“On occasion.”

Ai rests his elbow on the back of the couch, resting his head against his palm. He can hear Reiji dissolving into excited noises, can hear Camus talking about  _ horses _ , of all things, in a slightly warmer tone; it seems like they've found something they actually share an interest in. Ai’s free fingers curl into his sweater loosely, thumb running circles into the fabric as he and Ranmaru face each other.

“Move me.” Ai teases finally, letting his mind relax a little, letting Aine’s daring nature tint him a little.

“Twerp.” Ranmaru growls but faces Ai anyway, bumps his leg against Ai’s boot. “I don't need to do shit.”

“No, you do not. But I  _ am _ curious, and you  _ should _ indulge me.”

_ You're on fire _ , Aine says quietly, and Ai can imagine him smirking annoyingly.  _ Bully him, it's funny _ .

_ Shush _ .

“You're annoying as hell today.” Ranmaru finally says, frowning.

Ai blinks slowly, wondering. There’s an indirect question there--  _ why _ ?-- and isn't  _ that _ a concept that took Ai a while to understand. He still fails, on occasion, but now it seems obvious.

“If I answer, will you do the same?” Ai barters.

Ranmaru sputters, rolls his eyes, but nods anyway.

_ He's such a secret mother hen, of course he has a younger sister. _

“I have been, ah, a little tired.” Ai starts, tilting his head into his palm some more. “Shining Saotome has some  _ very _ specific thoughts on how I function as an idol. And, since doctor Kisaragi works with Shining Saotome for all his eccentric entrances and technologic ideas he'd like to implement, I am often also expected to assist. While I enjoy both, I tend to forget that  _ rest _ is something I need and that I cannot spend all my time working.”

Yeah, but it wasn’t a lesson Ai had learned very well regardless. Being 11 and tenacious had done nothing to curb it.

“Oh yeah, no, I woulda  _ never _ pegged you as a workaholic.” Ranmaru says with an eye roll. “I think you’ve scared us  _ all _ with your ethic.”

“Your turn.” Ai powers on, ignoring the subtle scolding.

Ranmaru’s mouth twists a little to the side, unamused.

“I know my juniors,” Ranmaru says finally. “And I don't like them.”

“That is irrelevant.” Ai says and Ranmaru frowns harder. “If they are good, they are good. You do not have to like people to teach them.”

“Of course you'd think as much!”

“It  _ is _ true.”

“Well, don't let Reiji hear you say that.”

With that, Ai’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. Ranmaru and Aine sigh at the same time ( _ eerie _ , Ai thinks without conviction, just because it seems like it  _ would _ be considered eerie).

_ You're an idiot. _

That makes Ai bite his cheek a little.

“Listen, Ai, your--  _ everything _ isn't very common. In fact, it's  _ really _ weird.”

_ If only you knew. _

“And-- you not having a choice really bothered us, but Reiji most of all.”

“I don't  _ need _ a choice.” Ai says.

Ranmaru blinks.

“Of course you do. We all need choices.” he says like it's plain as day to see.

“That is a human trait.”Ai replies, content to have the conversation. There isn’t much thought to put into it, a lull where Ai twirls a strand of hair slipping into his palm with slow movements; its familiar, almost, to have to explain that there wasn’t personhood to be had. Ai knew as much without having to think about it.

“You're annoyingly human most of the time to try and dodge it now.”

“Worried?”

“As if!”

“Then I do not see why my ability to choose or otherwise should concern you or be subject to debate.”

Ranmaru recoils a little, and Ai almost wants to laugh at his disgruntled look.

“I almost can't believe you're such a fuckin’ jerk.” Ranmaru says finally.

“I think I just have a monotone.” Ai shoots back. Ranmaru glares.

“ _ I _ think you’re an asshole.”

“I think  _ you _ do not mind very much if you’re still talking with me.”

_ Flirt! _

Ai flinches and coughs, choking on his own tongue at Aine’s comment. He had been quiet, and Ai was sure he had gotten bored; he was dead wrong if that yell was anything to go by. Ranmaru snorts but reaches out to steady Ai where he's fisted his sweater, holding Ai still by the elbow.

“What are you even choking on?” Ranmaru teases as Reiji and Camus look over.

“Ai-Ai, are you okay?!”

“I am fine, I apologize. Just. . . a moment of foresight.”

_ You're a mean flirt, just like me, _ Aine coos and Ai fights the heat rising to his head.  _ I can't wait to see you fall in love! It'll be so cute! _

Ai wants to scream, just a little, and  _ mostly _ he wants to throttle Aine. But he can't throttle a comatose patient and so instead, Ai gets up.

“Excuse me a moment.”

He marches off to an empty hallway, sitting on one of the school's many large windows.

“I am not capable of love, nor am I capable of flirting.” Ai hisses out, slightly mortified. “It does us no good for you to go around saying such.”

_ You're the only one who can hear me Ai _ , Aine replies with incredulity,  _ You're working  _ _ yourself _ _ up. There's gotta be a reason. _

That was  _ not _ a thought process Ai necessarily wanted to confront. All of Ai’s earlier confidence in what he  _ knew _ seeps out under Aine’s demanding voice.

_ Ai _ , Aine says,  _ Ai you have  _ _ feelings _ _. Whether it's from me, or from yourself, you have them. _

“They have to be yours.” Ai says, feeling himself heat up. A warning flashes in his head--  _ Overheating _ \-- and Ai covers his face, settles back into his impromptu seat.

Ai knows he's going to overheat and shutdown. He  _ knows _ . Ai knows it like he knows pi, like he knows the inevitable heat death of the universe, and yet Ai still finds himself hoping he's wrong.

_ Can’t be wrong too often. _

This was just too much for Ai to process. Give him idol work to his teeth and a meeting with Shining Saotome’s deadly expectations every hour, and Ai could cope; but giving Ai time to contemplate emotions and where he stood in the concept of personhood and you'd break his will to bits.

“I'm not a person.” Ai breathes out, trying to will the heat away. “I'm just  _ not _ .”

_ Now look--, _ Aine said, never knowing when to leave good enough alone, only to be cut off by a flash of “ _ Overheating: Shut Down Protocols Activated _ .”

Ai closes his eyes and leans his head back against the window frame.

* * *

“See? I told you nothing was wrong.” Ranmaru says quietly to Reiji. “He's just tired.”

“Ranmaru, what if he's sick?” Reiji shoots back, letting Camus move closer.

The three had become concerned (mainly prompted by Reiji panicking enough for all three) when Ai hadn't returned after a few minutes. Reiji had insisted on looking for Ai, assured that somehow he had managed to get himself killed somehow.

(It was a lot more colorful than  _ just _ death but Ranmaru and Camus had managed to tune it out by fighting over where to look first. It had gotten disturbingly detailed at one point, at which Ranmaru yelled at Reiji that  _ no, a serial killer did not take Ai into the forest and string him up for torture, shut the hell up Reiji _ !)

Camus places a hand on Ai’s forehead.

“He's a little hot. Nothing the sun can't explain.” Camus says, letting the cold of his hands seep into Ai's skin for a moment before pulling away.

Ai let's out a full body shiver before flicking his eyes open, color slightly off before he blinks again. He makes a little confused noise as he looks around.

“I am sorry.” Ai says, brushing his knuckles over the corners of his eyes. “I believe I've been gone for over 10 minutes. I did not realize.”

“Ai-Ai!” Reiji gushes, throwing hours arms around Ai and squeezing him tight. Ai sputters. “You should have just said you were tired! We would've let you go to bed! You could’ve gotten hurt!”

Ai blinks rapidly, half listening, half sorting out his programming. He awkwardly pats Reiji’s shoulder before shrugging him off.

“I am quite fine. Kurosaki has a habit of sleeping anywhere, so I do not see how this experience is much different.” Ai says.

“But Ai-Ai--” Reiji says just as Ranmaru yells “Don't call  _ me _ out--”, voices overlapping and swirling together. Ai shivers again, more languid as he steps onto the floor and stands up fully.

“Cold?” Camus asks.

Ai shakes his head.

“Full body and systems scan. Their quick nature often translates into minor shivering.” Ai says, rolling his shoulders. “I should not have fallen asleep there. I apologize for causing concern.”

“You need to take better care of yourself Ai.” Reiji says, voice serious and devoid of childish whining. “Idol work is taxing; we can't work if we’re always run down.”

“I will take it into consideration.”

“Hey,” Camus says before Reiji can demand a more solid assurance. “Your scrunchy is loose. You should fix it.”

“Ah?”

Ai runs his fingers through the pulled-up bit of hair feeling more than a few strands shake out with ease. Plucking the scrunchy out, Ai’s choppy hair falls like a curtain to frame his face. The group slowly begins to shuffle back towards where the couches are, a soft ebb and flow to their travel.

(For a moment, Ai just let the ends of his hair brush against his skin, the feathered layers tickling a little. It's a nice reminder of reality.)

Reiji is staring at Ai as he pulls his hair back up. Combing his hair with his fingers in sure, strong strokes, Ai side eyes Reiji a bit.

“Yes?”

“Ah, um, you look really nice with your hair down is all.” Reiji says, although there's a nostalgic tone to his voice. Ai can tell what he's really thinking about. He’d understand that look for as long as he could understand  _ anything _ .

_ He's right you know. _ Aine supplies quietly before retreating again. Regret, maybe, seems to be what keeps Aine at bay now.

Ai ties his hair up like usual regardless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [hit me up on tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) if you'd all like  
>  i think my jump off point its p great rn for my Evil Hell Plans :3c


	9. Pulse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parry those thoughts away, dear, and defend your underbelly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hap thursday yall, i almost didnt finish this chapter kjdfdkj i also butchered the timeline in my notes which means i have to rethink future chapters; thank u my warped sense of time! so if things are posted a little bit later than usual next week or even stalled until the week after next, pls know im just doing my best to keep everything neat!!!
> 
> Im sure i have a million errors so dont be afraid to point them out to me !!

The pleasant surprise that is Starish actually being _very_ talented washes over Ai as he watches the concert. He sits between Reiji and Ranmaru, leaning his head towards Reiji while tangling his leg with Ranmaru’s. Camus is _right_ next to Ranmaru, and Ai doesn't want to risk any arguments. Reiji is smiling like a dope the entire time.

“They're good!” he's saying, eyes lighting up as he looks at the other three. “Guys, they’ve got so much potential!”

“They do.” Camus says, clear as day and _bored_.

“You expected them to be awful?” Ai asks, raising his eyebrow.

“A little.”

Ai laughs lowly; something about this concert and Starish’s singing makes Ai feel loose. Even _Aine_ is humming, soft and pleased and joyful.

“Those brats are proving to be decent.” Ranmaru admits, elbow bumping Ai’s good naturedly. “Maybe not worth it though.”

“I'm so relieved!” Reiji whispers gleefully, pressing his hands together.

Ai glances up at Reiji, raises an eyebrow again but gets distracted by the concert once more. He can't help but notice the choreography, enjoying it but correcting each of their moves in his mind.

_Never a day off?_

_Of course not._

When all's said and done, Shining finds them amongst the crowd.

“Well, well, well!” he crows in English, arms spread out with a cocky smirk. “I'm awaiting answers!”

“We'll do it.” Reiji says with a grin. “They've got promise.”

“Don't I know it!”

Shining curls his arms around Reiji and Ai's shoulders in a grand motion, eye's unreadable behind his sunglasses; Ai wants to shrug the touch off on impulse, but he stays still and stares at Shining’s profile with the utmost blankness.

“I know right now it seems like Camus is being left out, but you'll get a junior of your own _very_ soon.” Shining reassures, an odd glint to his expression.

 _What an oddly emotioned man_ , Ai can't help but think. _What an odd man in general._

 _That's Shiny for you,_ Aine says.

 _I wonder if I'll ever get to understanding him_.

When Shining Saotome finally dashes off, Ai rubs the corner of his eye and sighs. Its low, barely a breath, but Reiji is already on Ai within a second.

“Aw, Ai-Ai, are you tired?” he coos, reaching out to hug Ai.

“No.” Ai replies succinctly, side stepping Reiji's efforts and landing himself squarely between Camus and Ranmaru; their arguing is low, not nearly heated just yet, but Ai still keeps himself as a barrier. “I _do_ have to go to the lab though, I am helping the doctor finish Shining Saotome’s most recent request and we are almost done.”

Ai bites the corner of his lip a little, wondering how far would be too far to talk about the project; there was no particular restrictions on this one, and the other three would know eventually anyway. His lips quirk up a little bit.

“It is a very interesting request. Quite challenging but--”

“You love the difficult?” Ranmaru cuts in, teasing but not unkind.

Reiji laughs, and Camus let's out a huff that’s probably amused, and Ai elbows Ranmaru a little bit in retaliation.

“ _Yes_ , I do.”

As they all walk out if the concert hall and towards the too-extravagant limo Shining had insisted they use for the night, Ai manages to explain the holograph machines that he and the doctor had been working on. Ai isn't nearly as animated as Reiji when he speaks, but he does end up using some simplified, exaggerated explanations of holographic technology. By the time they're on the road, Reiji is throwing out over the top ideas on how to use holograms and Camus is offering rebuttal after rebuttal; he had actually paid attention to Ai’s more detailed notes and kept up fairly well.

“And that's how Shining wants us to meet them?” Ranmaru says incredulously.

“Yes.”

“What a fuckin’ nut. Way to work around that bastard not being there.”

Ai sighs, puts his hand on Ranmaru’s arm chidingly. Glancing over, it seems like Camus either wasn't paying attention or didn't care to retaliate yet, but Ai left his hand where it was.

“I can't help but wonder what else Shining Saotome plans to use it for. He has had access to so much technology; I sometimes wonder if he uses it in any other way.” Ai says, head tilting to the side.

“I doubt it.” Ranmaru shrugs, leaning further back into his seat and closing his eyes. “He's devious and a manipulative asshole, but he isn't evil. He knows where to cut and where to back off. If it really is Doctor Kisaragi’s tech then he wouldn't steal it.”

“How would you know?”

“I'm a _pretty_ damn good judge of character, I'll have you know. Shining isn't just going to _steal_ tech.”

“I’d assume not.” Ai concedes, shaking his head and slumping into his seat.

Ranmaru and Ai descend into a comfortable silence, Ranmaru half-napping and Ai watching Camus and Reiji’s conversation. Occasionally he interjects, correcting some ideas and dismissing others, but otherwise Ai just keeps his hand on Ranmaru’s arm and stays quiet.

He's almost asleep when the limo jerks to a stop. He does end up falling asleep on his way to the lab.

* * *

 

Bright and early the next morning, Ai is on a tall ladder in one of Shining Agency’s largest practice rooms, up in a corner. He’s fastening one of the hologram machines to the wall with care, humming, as the doctor sets up another one of the machines clear on the other side of the room.

“Ai,” the doctor calls out. “Do you have a small Phillips head screwdriver? I can't find mine.”

“Not a surprise.” Ai says as he secures the little machine into place, snorting. “I have one, just let me finish here.”

“Thank you!”

Ai checks to make sure everything’s in place before climbing down. Patting the huge pocket on the front of his black and red hoodie, he pulls out a screwdriver and walks over towards where the doctor is working.

“You're a lifesaver,” Doctor Kisaragi says as he climbs down to reach for the tool. “What would I do without you?”

“No clue,” Ai replies as he hands it off. “Even when I organize everything, you still manage to lose things.”

“It's a talent.”

“Of course.”

Before Doctor Kisaragi can reply, noise explodes from down the hall. Two voices crest and crash and Ai can't help it when his eyes widen.

“. . . That sounds like your bandmates?” the doctor half asks.

“. . . yes. It is them. If you'll excuse me for a second, doctor, I tend to be the only one they listen to when they argue.”

Doctor Kisaragi waves Ai off kindly before climbing the ladder again, only glancing over once Ai has his back turned. Ai squares his shoulders and walks down the hallway, Camus and Ranmaru coming into sight along with Reiji trying to keep them apart.

“ _Some_ of us are trying to work.” Ai says once he's close enough to be heard. “And the noise is a nuisance. What is the problem?”

That was _definitely_ the wrong thing to say; Camus and Ranmaru start making their points, voices overlapping, and Reiji flinches.

Ai takes a deep breath. He was tired. He had work to do. Aine had been unbearable this morning. Ai’s sure the doctor is getting ready to run down the hallway, scoop him up, and never come back. Ai manages to look deep inside of himself.

“ _Shut the hell up already_.”

Maybe accessing his inner Aine wasn't the worst thing in the world; the shocked looks on the other’s faces at least make them go quiet.

“If you two are just going to argue and be nuisances, then separate _yourselves_ . I do _not_ have time for this nonsense; I have _eight_ more machines to set up today and they _all_ need to be calibrated _before_ midday. So either _get along_ or _scatter_ . I do not want to hear _anyone_ arguing until _after_ I'm done.”

Ai gives Ranmaru and Camus hard looks. Reiji is staring at Ai with something like amazement, something odd and tangled; Ai can't even begin to fathom it, but he can't start wondering now.

“I'm glad we are all clear. Goodbye.”

With that, Ai promptly turns around and makes his way back to the doctor. The _swish swish_ of this yoga pants sort of detracts from his exit, but he leaves with his head held high anyway.

The doctor whistles when Ai returns.

“Assertive. That's good.” he teases.

“I did not have the time to separate them as usual.” Ai replies, moving his ladder along the wall to another spot on the wall.

“They fight like that often?”

“Usually it is louder. It is difficult for Kotobuki to separate them on his own.”

Doctor Kisaragi snorts and climbs down his ladder to move it too. Ai glances at him, but the doctor says nothing more and they both go back to working. It only takes a few minutes for Ai to start humming again.

* * *

 

“. . . I can’t believe we actually got him upset.” Ranmaru mutters, slightly baffled. “What the fuck?”

Camus huffs, expression closed off, before turning and going down the other side of the hallway. His steps are even and tempered, and Ranmaru has to snort out a laugh; seeing Camus scolded was a bit of a treat. That's when Ranmaru notices Reiji. He's still faced and silent, the only indication of him being awake being his rapid blinking.

“. . . Reiji?” Ranmaru asks, waving a hand in front of his face. “Reiji, what the hell is wrong with you? Can't be that weird to have Ai get upset with us.”

“He--” Reiji says, swallowing hard. “He sounded. . . _just_ like Aine.”

Ranmaru scrunches his nose a little.

“Like _who_?”

Reiji let's out a breath, hot and fuzzy and uncomfortable. He's still not looking at Ranmaru. He refuses to drag his gaze away from where Ai went.

“. . . Like no one. It was nothing.”

With that Reiji slowly walks to where Ai took off to. Ranmaru watches as Reiji turns the corner in silence.

“What the fuck is up with everyone today?” he finally says, looking out of a nearby window in confusion before shaking his head. “What the _fuck_ is my life.”

\---

“Ai,” Reiji says once he gets to the practice room. “Ai?”

Ai turns his head to look at Reiji, head tilting a little.

 _From the right_ , Reiji thinks dizzily, _their profiles looks so alike, so much--_

“Ah, Kotobuki.” Ai says and turns some more on the ladder rung to face him more directly. “I apologize for the crass interruption. I did not have the time to be a more thorough buffer. I understand how difficult--”

“Near impossible, damn annoying those other two get?” Doctor Kisaragi interrupts cheekily, and Reiji can see how Ai bites the corner of his lip a little in amusement.

“That is one way of putting it, yes.” Ai says instead of laughing. “But I do realize that the experience might have upset you in some way, and that was not my intention.”

Reiji flicks his eyes across Ai’s face slowly before nodding and forcing on a smile. It was Ai. Ai who took the most efficient route, who would never go out of his way in spite. Just Ai.

“No problem! Just came to check on you is all.” Reiji replies with cheer. “I’ll always check up if I can.”

Ai gives Reiji an odd look, head tilting to the other side. It reminds Reiji of a cat; all unruly edges softened by gentling habits.

“Of course. I appreciate your concern but I am fine.”

Doctor Kisaragi clears his throat particularly hard. Ai glances at him for a moment, startled, before returning his gaze to Reiji.

“Are _you_. . . okay?” Ai ventures, slightly unsure.

Reiji can't help it; he laughs. He's not sure what he's laughing at; that Ai needs to be reminded to reply to common courtesy, or of the cosmic fucking _irony_ of _that_ face asking him _that_ question.

“Ai-Ai, you're so cute! I'm great now that Ran-Ran and Myu-chan aren't arguing anymore,” Reiji coos, eyes crinkling with his smile. “So thank you for that!”

“Ah, it was no problem.” Ai insists.

“Still, thank you! I'll stop bugging you now, good luck with your work!”

Ai blinks owlishly.

“Thank you.”

Reiji waves energetically and walks off, a small bounce to his step until he's out of sight. He pauses just around the corner. Only one thing rang clear in his head.

_Not Aine. Not Aine. Not Aine. There's never going to be another Aine again. I'm never going to see Aine again._

_But why does it feel so wrong?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, on an inflatable doughnut tube, careening down a lazy river with a bottle of whiskey: how can i be awful today?
> 
> anyway come hang out and ask me q's on [my tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) if u wanna; im p friendly !!
> 
> to next time


	10. Prod

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something wicked this way comes, but no soul stirs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys, hap thursday, im back! i actually made the announcement of my late posting on my tumblr
> 
> i have an announcement: im gonna start staggering updates more to one every two weeks bc its so much easier on me and my schedule. I think this is gonna be better for everyone bc look at what two weeks of writing gave me: a chunky ass chapter for y'all lol. i also felt that ch9 wasnt good enough for you guys, but now after working on ch10 for so long i feel better so i think im gonna work this way for a while
> 
> also bc this chapter was so big and i spent so much time on it, i probably totally glossed over certain mistakes, so feel free to correct me!!!
> 
> now without further adieu, heres ch10 <3

Ai is _immensely_ pleased with the hologram machines when they practice. They're strong, more than functional, and are some of the best work Doctor Kisaragi has done short of Ai himself. Seeing everyone’s reactions to the test display lights a little prideful ember in Ai’s chest.

“We need to do a practice so that the machines can track and emulate our movements.” Ai says, glancing over at his bandmates.

“Yeah, okay, but,” Ranmaru replies absent mindedly. “Holy shit?”

Ai smiles a bit.

Practice goes well, and Ai feels. . . _great_ . It’s the most successful he's felt all month; Shining's approval had come quick once he had inspected the machines, and he'd left Quartet Night to train with words of encouragement. And then, practice had actually, _genuinely_ went _well_ ; Ranmaru and Camus had little to fight over while busy, and it had been wholly efficient despite some stumbles. Ai had even managed to keep _Aine_ at bay despite his constantly fluctuating mood lately. A few yawns couldn't do in Ai’s improving mood.

The inevitable down came in the form of doctor Kisaragi. Despite all the love and affection in the world, there were always unpleasant things to be done.

Standing in the labs elevator, going down to the lower level to pay Aine a visit, was high on Ai’s list of unpleasant things to do.

Ai knew the doctor visited quite often without having to be told as much. It had been a fixture of his life for as long as he could remember. Ai himself only had to visit around once a month for some general checkups regarding their connection.

Aine is a disturbingly ethereal sight when they enter; he's laid still on a white bed, wires and tubes rising out from his skin, twined upwards like a mocking caricature of spread wings. The thought had clung with Ai from the moment he’d seen Aine for the first time, so he had always assumed it was Aine’s thought. Pulling up a stool next to the bed, Ai pulls all his hair up into a bun and leaves his back to Aine's body when he sits. Clicking open the panel on his wrist, Ai feels doctor Kisaragi open the seamless panel on the back of his neck. Ai lets himself enter low power mode-- it always took over 2 hours for everything to get sorted out, and the doctor rarely asked Ai for more than straight statistics, so there was no reason to waste battery-- and waits.

_I hate this._

_I know._

It's always quiet on the bottom floor of the lab. Even when it's time for checkups, there's only low questions asked from necessity and loyal answers. The elevator is equally as quiet, if not more, because there's no more inquiries. Even the inside of Ai’s head feels quiet, empty; Aine loses motivation to speak, and Ai is still doing slow, thorough system checks that don't translate into words. He's never been able to explain what it's like to anyone; thinking in zeroes and ones without any actual dialogue is just something to be _experienced_ as opposed to being _explained_.

Ai has to go straight back to Shining Agency. He takes a taxi there.

Reiji is warming up his voice, trying to prod Ranmaru into warming up with him when Ai arrives. Ranmaru is staunchly trying to nap instead.

“Ai-Ai!” Reiji yells the moment Ai walks in. “You need to warm up, we all do, help me!”

“Kurosaki knows this. Warming up is an essential part of preparation.” Ai says as he gets close.

Ranmaru opens one eye to glare at Ai. Ai stares back until Ranmaru finally sighs, heavy and long winded, and opens both his eyes.

“ _Fine_.”

Ai should have expected less. It's really around 3 minutes of warming up and critique before Reiji starts getting distracted, singing different songs and jumping verses when he remembers tunes he's heard on the radio. Ranmaru starts correcting him on the lyrics he sings wrong, and then they're both singing the same songs, and Aine says “ _parakeets_ ” which makes Ai pinch the bridge of his nose for a moment.

(It's a very _Kisaragi_ habit, the doctor had said once with a laugh. _Almost like you've been with me forever_.)

Then both Ranmaru and Reiji completely butcher a song and ask Ai for help. It's ten minutes wasted to giving songs on the radio too much credence and Ai sort of wants to smack Reiji a little but it's really Aine, he's sure, being passive aggressive. Despite his vocal nature, Aine was always passive aggressive when it came to Reiji.

Ringo pops his head through the doorway.

“Hello boys!” he says cheerily. “Shining sent me to tell you to be prepared. They're here~!”

“Thank you Ringo-chan~!” Reiji replies with equal cheer, and they share an energetic wave before Ringo steps back out.

“Into the corner.” Ai says, waving Ranmaru and Reiji over.

Ranmaru immediately leans against the wall once he's close enough to settle. Ai stands close by, nudging him with a foot, while Reiji gets comfortable on Ranmaru’s other side.

“You better not fall asleep.”

“Shaddup.”

Rolling his eyes, Ai pulls out a small remote from his pocket. He prompts the machines to turn on, only covering the three with a hologram to hide them.

“Shiny has weird ideas.” Reiji says quietly.

“He is very creative, I suppose.” Ai replies, putting a finger over his mouth when the door clicks open. Starish walks in, sans their composer, and seem comfortable chatting together. Ai leans against the wall finally, nudging Ranmaru gently. Ai feels Ranmaru turn his head to watch the new band; Ai can't help but analyze every interaction, every word.

When their composer arrives, the whole group dynamic changes and it throws Ai in for a loop; they all seem happier, but slightly tensioned. Once she gives them some sheet music, the tension seeps out, but Ai can't help but wonder.

Ranmaru lazily presses his knuckle to Ai’s cheek, jarring him from his analysis suddenly. Looking over in confusion, Ranmaru mouths _hot_ and drags his knuckle up against Ai’s temple. Ai blinks and closes his eyes, trying to clear his mind and let his fans actually function. Hearing Shining annoy somebody else for once held enough catharsis to make Ai actually start cooling by the time they needed to get into position. He clicks the remote once more.

Watching all seven viewers be absolutely dazzled makes Ai want to say something particularly Aine-like. Instead, he focuses on the choreography and keeping in tempo so that when the holograms shut down he's in position. He can hear Reiji and Ranmaru’s distinct foot falls among the music, over his own voice, and can imagine Camus’s if he were there. Ai isn't sure why he's so aware.

When Ringo and Ryuya descend from their cart, glittering and close, Ai can’t help but think, _Aine_?

_Definitely got a hand in each other._

_Just making sure you were still an asshole._

Being introduced to their juniors is. . . underwhelming, actually. Ai still feels hot and stiff, Reiji has turned up the charm times ten and plastered on a smile, and Ranmaru has completely blocked everyone out. Ai isn't surprised when he finally lashes out, voice rough and low, _you're nothing special_ , and it costs nothing to say, _I'm interested in them as test subjects,_ back; even with this, even despite a mutual lack of genuine interest, Ai wonders if Ranmaru should be this venomous. There's _something_ there.

When his juniors immediately pick a fight with Ranmaru, Ai feels a laugh bubble in his chest. He keeps it in, of course, hears Aine mumble that _Reiji always protects the punks, huh_?

Syo is a fighter, every inch a firecracker ready to pop. Natsuki is easier, more soft spoken if distracted. It isn't grace that makes him _easier_ , but Ai thinks it's _easier_ all the same.

Ai is just holding on until after he can leave his juniors. Quartet Night was planning on regrouping and Ai is just _tired_ , tired everywhere and in every way. Camus had arranged for tea after they meet, if only because Reiji had been adamant that _bonding_ was in order. Ai thinks that’s easier, too.

_He's just in love with gossiping._

Ai had barely managed to sit down on the parallel couches before Camus is settling next to him, cool hand pressed to his forehead.

“What have you been doing?” Camus says, clicking his tongue. “You're burning up.”

“It was a lot of people to analyze.” Ai replies, eyes slipping shut. “I was already at a low capacity. Kurosaki noticed before the performance but I do not think it is at a level to be a hindrance.”

Camus clicks his tongue again, moving his hand to Ai’s cheek. It's actually very soothing after spending most of the day heating up; Ai mumbles out his thanks, head tilting into Camus’s hand. They spend a quiet minute like that, Camus sympathetic and Ai thankful, until they hear their other two band mates making a ruckus.

Ai sits up straighter, opening his eyes, and Camus goes to pour himself some tea.

“--There’s _promise_.” Reiji is saying, voice stubborn.

“They’re _dependant_.” Ranmaru grouses back.

Camus raises a single eyebrow as the argument continues even as they sit. Ai sighs, pouring himself tea steadily and then doing the same for Reiji and Ranmaru. Snapping his fingers, Ai points at their cups silently. Both pause to attend to their tea, and as Ai gets himself comfortable he briefly wonders when _he_ became the strict mom of the group.

“How did the meetings go?” Camus asks after a beat of silence.

Reiji yells “Great!” unconvincingly, Ranmaru growls “it's bullshit”, and Ai mutters “It was average.” all at the same time. Camus blinks slowly.

“This is going to be interesting.” Camus says finally, taking a sip of his tea.

* * *

 

The next day, Ai sets up tea in Camus’s stead for them both. Ai even gets small cupcakes for him-- red velvet with blue icing and little sugar pearls, at Reiji’s eager suggestion.

Camus arrives _fuming_.

“He's an idiot!” he yells the moment he sees Ai. Ai sympathetically pours some tea into Camus’s mug as Camus rants. “He doesn't even _understand_ what being an idol _is_ and he expects to _succeed_ ? He only does it because he _likes_ that composer girl! It's ridiculous!”

“. . . Likes?” Ai asks, tilting his head to the side.

“Yeah, which is a ridiculous reason to go into a line of work!”

Ai feels the heat rising quick, puzzling over that-- he does it because he _likes_ her?-- and like a sixth sense, Camus notices. Without stopping, Camus presses both of his hands into Ai’s cheeks and chills them. Frost spreads across Ai’s skin and down his neck, soothing despite the sting of cold that inevitably sinks in.

“--What kind of person--” Camus is saying when Ai finally speaks up.

“He is infatuated with an idea that is not a whole, from what you have told me.” Ai says. “Thank you for allowing me to keep cool.”

Camus huffs, releasing Ai’s face and grabbing a cupcake instead. He unwraps the bottom, and proceeds to eat the whole cupcake in one bite. Ai let's out a huff.

“He's an idiot. A talented idiot.” Camus finally says.

“I do believe if Kurosaki were here, he would wholly agree with you for once.” Ai replies, tone edging on kind. “But I believe in your ability to raise Aijima to an acceptable level of idol-dom.”

“Of course I _can_ , but it's a question of do I really _want_ to.”

“You'll have to do it anyway.”

Camus sighs, resigned, and grabs another cupcake. He eats it the same way, obviously upset; he usually revels in sweets, so the quick toss and bite is odd.

“He's a prince.” Camus says after some silence. “And it shows.”

“How?” Ai asks, head tilting to the side.

“He's full of himself, self righteous yet hardly responsible or straight backed. I  cannot imagine him _ruling_ one day.”

“People change.” Ai offers.

 _They do,_ Aine whispers, _they really do._

“Maybe,” Ai continues, voice going soft in reaction to Aine’s tone. If Camus thinks anything of it, he says nothing. “You will be the influence that gives him a ruler’s mind. I am doing something similar with my juniors.”

Camus is silent. Ai sips his tea.

“I suppose it's not the worst idea I've heard.” Camus admits.

“ _I_ am using it, of course it's not a bad idea.”

“Of course not.” Camus says with a small laugh. He seems a little more at ease.

Ai shoots him a smile.

* * *

 

Syo is _dejected,_ to say the least, about his initial performance in Prince Of Fighting. He's complaining up a storm to Natsuki as Ai makes himself tea. Syo’s saying something about fears, and overcoming them, and Ai is struggling to focus; he logs everything Syo is saying but understands very little. It's not an odd setup; all three had arrived late from different events, and Ai was willing to let the schedule go for a moment of peace with his tea. He was in no mindset to start scolding, wanted just a moment of calm.

Now, if only the rest of the world could agree with him.

Ai had seen Prince of Fighting before; it was hard pressed to find someone who _hadn't_ seen the TV series considering how often it was played. It was all put more into perspective with Aine, who was intimately familiar with who Ryuya Hyuga was. He had been a particularly nosey junior. But if Ai had to hear Syo cry one more grievance over having embarrassed himself in front of Ryuya, someone whom Ai fully knew to be _just a dude_ and not some untouchable being, then Ai was going to break something.

“Syo,” Ai says once the cadence of Syo’s voice has grated on Ai as if he were Aine. “We all fear something as beings with things to fear. It is irrational and bothersome, but it is how humans are. What will separate you from everyone else in the world of idols, though, is how you overcome your fears to prevail in your work. Despite this, you _will_ continue and you _will_ overcome.”

There's a beat of silence-- Ai is steeping his tea silently, hadn't even turned to give his speech.

“Wow Ai-chan,” Natsuki says. “That was very cool of you!”

Ai wonders, briefly, what the inside of Natsuki’s head must be like. Aine snickers and suggests, _maybe like hell,_ before Ai manages to smother him.

 _Not now_.

“Thanks for the advice, Ai.” Syo says, both sounding grateful and embarrassed.

“I wonder what Ai-chan fears?” Natsuki asks, tone wholly innocent. “Have you ever had to do something you were afraid of?”

Ai closes his eyes.

There's pressure against his eyes, impenetrable cold seeping straight down into his bones, an inhale that's too _thick_ to be air, _choking_ , a shock of panicked _heat_ \--

“Yes.” Ai manages, bracing his free hand against the counter top.

His phone rings in that moment. Palming it is automatic, every movement so well practiced that he doesn't have to look when he answers.

“Yes?”

“Ai,” Ranmaru grunts on the other side of the line, and his voice drags Ai out of a car he'd never actually been in and away from a cliff face he'd never actually seen. “You any good at fixing laptops?”

“I am highly proficient.” Ai replies, slowly opening his eyes. “Yours broke, I presume?”

“Yup. Can I--”

“You can bring it now if you would like.”

“. . . okay, sure, why the hell not.” Ranmaru says, sounding a little off. “You there right now?”

“Yes, I am.”

Ai pulls the teabag out of his mug, blinking at the surely-over-steeped tea with an unnatural blankness even for him. He moves to toss the bag out, only noticing then that Syo and Natsuki are gone, a yellow sticky note with pink gel script left on the door.

Maybe Ai needed to tone down the lenience.

“I'll be there in--” A pause, a hum. “--5 minutes.”

“Okay.”

Ranmaru grunts and hangs up. Ai stares at his dimming screen.

 _Tea_ , he thinks, and it's easy enough to go back to finish up his mug and hold it close to his chest as he drifts towards the door.

“ _Went out for a band meeting, thanks for the advice_ ” the sticky note reads, signed by both Syo and Natsuki. Ai pulls his phone out again and texts them both a reprimand; neither responds. Ai expected as much. Sometimes those two were _too_ predictable.

It takes Ranmaru 6 minutes and 46 seconds to knock on Ai’s door. Ai had already managed to finish his tea and wash the mug, now feeling aimless as he scrolls through his phone.

(Remembering always made Ai feel listless, like he wasn't in his own body and was instead spectating from far away. He was hardly a fan of the feeling. He's not sure why he even feels it at all.)

“You're late.” Ai says when he opens the door. Ranmaru holds out a laptop bag.

“Whatever, I'm here so I'm good.”

Ai sighs and takes the bag from Ranmaru’s hand, walking over with it to his desk. Ranmaru follows, shutting the door behind himself and settling on the couch as Ai pulls out his laptop.

“Do you know what happened?”

“Nope. Refused to turn on even when charged.”

Ai just hums, digging around his desk drawer for his thinner tools. Pulling out a little black case, he hears Ranmaru get up and shuffle over.

“Have you eaten yet?”

Ai blinks.

“No, I have not.”

“Neither have I, so I'm gonna make something. You _do_ stock food, right?”

“You've _seen_ me eat.” Ai says, exasperated as he begins unscrewing the bottom panel of the laptop loose. “You _know_ I stock food.”

“Always have to make sure with you.”

“You really don't need to.”

“Sure.”

Ranmaru shuffles off to the kitchen and Ai let's himself sink into working on the laptop. Ai can't help but notice how old it is, if well maintained, as he pulls it apart; he has some of the parts stuffed in a box in the lab, picked apart for experiments, which is good. The bad part is that a _lot_ of things could be the culprit of the shut down considering how worn some of the parts are.

“Why do you have so many noodles?” Ranmaru asks suddenly and Ai glances up with a small, white lipped smile; there's a cabinet literally filled to the brim with pasta opened and Ranmaru seems to have found one he wants to use.

“Shinomiya likes to stock the kitchen to his leisure. Usually there is one of everything, so to speak, to make a variety of items. I cannot say Shinomiya is successful in making widely appealing foods though.”

“Oh Christ,” Ranmaru says as he shuts the cabinet resolutely. “I'm makin’ soba.”

Ai makes a little affirmative noise before standing up; opening a set of metal drawers next to his desk, Ai begins to pick out little clear containers. Each has different materials-- wires, bolts, soldering tools, pins-- and little labels made of washitape. Ai couldn't just let the rolls go to waste after he had finished lining his table, and there was always something to be stored and marked for later; the doctor had bought Ai bulk box of 10 pack silver sharpies once to keep up with Ai’s organizing when he was 12.

Ai smiles a little at the memory.

“Where does he _find_ half of this shit?”

“I've yet to ask, but you could ask him yourself when he gets back.”

Ranmaru makes a disgruntled noise at the thought and goes silent. Ai returns to his desk once he has all he needs, and the quiet that fills the room is warmer than Ai thought it would be. The only noises were that of cooking food and soft metallic clicks, and Ai feels the line of his shoulders smooth out into a relaxed curve. By the time either of them speak again, Ai is hunched over Ranmaru’s laptop with an intense look.

“Done,” Ranmaru calls, and Aine laughs softly deep in Ai’s head.

 _Doesn't he know?,_ Aine says so no one in particular because Ai is definitely not listening for once. _You take after your father, can't be pulled away from a project just for food._

Ranmaru casts a long shadow across Ai’s work and Ai blinks, pausing for only a moment to let his eyes adjust, before continuing. There's a disapproving tongue click from above.

“ _Ai_.”

“A moment, please.” Ai finally says, an odd metallic edge to his voice. “I'll be finished soon.”

“I don't need it finished so soon that you can't _eat_.” Ranmaru argues, nudging Ai’s shoulder. “Plus, what was the point of making food if you aren't gonna eat it right away, hm?”

Ai knew that tone of voice; it was the tone the doctor used whenever he thought Ai was being unreasonable, or whenever Camus ended up having to press cold hands to Ai’s cheeks. Ranmaru was definitely not someone he expected to use that tone on Ai. It was too soft.

“Okay,” Ai finally says, neatly putting his tools down. “Okay, I'll go.”

Ranmaru snorts, tugging a strand of Ai’s hair as he walks back into the kitchen. Ai stands and stretches, mentally berating himself; if he'd seen the doctor taking such a poor position for so long, he'd have immediately scolded him, so there was no reason to not do so to himself.

He'd also berate the doctor for slouching on a white couch while eating a truly unreasonable amount of soba only five minutes later, but Ai was a little more willing to let this one go. It was inching towards 1 am, so Ai texts Natsuki and Syo once more, but doesn't expect much. With the way Starish was, they were probably all piled in someone's room having an impromptu sleepover. Ai doesn't doubt that either A) they were at Reiji’s room who tended to be gracious about bonding, or B) monopolizing how long it's taken Ranmaru to return and using that room instead.

“Ranmaru,” Ai says after having eaten in silence for a while. Ranmaru startles, side eying Ai. “I still wonder why you don't like your juniors.”

“ _Still_?” Ranmaru asks, exasperated.

“Mhm.”

Ai doesn't look up, instead letting his eyes become lidded as he lazily stirs his noodles around. Giving Ranmaru space after prodding worked best, letting him feel like there was nothing but curiosity, to curb the angry insistences he leaned on. Aine snickers. Ai feels the click of his jaw as he bites down on his own tongue.

_So attuned. How pedantic._

_Maybe_ , Ai thinks with venom he's not sure he really feels, _If you had_ _cared_ _about the pedantics, you wouldn't have been so alone_.

That shuts Aine right up; the drop in noise in Ai’s head feels like a lifted weight, and Ai pulls some noodles up to eat triumphantly. There's the coppery taste of a burst sensor on Ai’s tongue and he swallows the feeling down. _That_ could right itself.

“I was rich when I was younger.” Ranmaru says, low and gravelly. “I used to be a friend of theirs. Rich kids tend to band together and all. And then--” Ranmaru trails off, obviously getting upset.

It takes nothing for Ai to rest his head on Ranmaru’s shoulder, trying to balance his bowl on his lap. Once Ai's successful, he reaches out and pushes Ranmaru’s bowl onto his lap too.

“You'll get hurt if you break it,” Ai says softly. “There's no reason to ruin it after you put so much effort into making us food.”

Ranmaru let's the steady pressure of Ai’s hand move the bowl down, let's Ai pry it out of Ranmaru’s hands and balance it on his knees.

“Is that a robot talent?”

“You could say as much.”

And then, with nothing better to do, Ranmaru grabs one of Ai’s hands. Ai flips it palm up at his urging, and let's himself watch as Ranmaru presses his thumb across the palm smoothly.

“And then, my dad's business partner bailed with all the money.” Ranmaru finally says; his tone is still angry, but sadness tinges every word. “He worked himself to death to try and make it all up. And now we’re still drowning in debt, but I'm workin’ on it. But seeing them two just brings all the bitterness back.”

“But you have forward momentum.” Ai says, slightly encouragingly.

“Yeah, forward momentum.”

They stay quiet for a moment, and Ai curls his fingers up to trap Ranmaru’s thumb for a moment.

“I wish I could say something. Anything that I could say is either a lie or _classified_.” he says, and then laughs shyly at his own ridiculousness. “Of all things to think me as. I am not really considered legal, but there is no regulation for me, so it is easier for me to keep quiet. But just know that, I am of the belief that everyone is trying to repay something. So maybe it will be easier to think that they, too, are trying to make up for something the world did to them. That despite your differences, you are not alone.”

“When’d you find the time to get wise?” Ranmaru teases, free hand going up to ruffle Ai’s hair. The tightness in Ranmaru’s throat doesn’t escape Ai.

“ _Uhg_ , stop that.” Ai hisses out immediately, trying to duck away from Ranmaru’s hand while keeping the bowls balanced. “Jerk.”

“Yeah yeah, get back to eating.”

Ai gives Ranmaru a little glare, hardly a drop of fire in it, before going back to his bowl. Ranmaru barks out a laugh and grabs his own for, immediately starting to eat again.

 _Everyone's making up for something, huh?,_ Aine says, voice taut.

Ai picks at his food but then ignores Aine with a bite. Ai felt scathing with Aine, twisted tight and coiled to the hairs, and decided it was better to just ignore him than to fight.

When they're done, Ranmaru loads the dishwasher and Ai returns to the laptop with renewed vigor. Ranmaru pauses to watch Ai work for a few quiet minutes.

“Bring it to me when you're done, though I'm not really super rushed to have it back yet.” Ranmaru says.

Ai hums softly, glancing up at Ranmaru.

“I would like to replace some items, so I won't finish until tomorrow.”

“Don't stay up later than this, twerp.”

Ranmaru sweeps his hand through Ai’s hair once more to be annoying, Ai huffing at him, and finally leaves. Ai ends up moving his work to his bed to connect to his charger; if Ai could just finish these last few bits, he could pick up some spare pieces at Doctor Kisaragi’s lab in the morning to finish it all off. Ai never left a job half done if he could help it.

 _Ai_ , Aine says, _Ai, are you making up for me? Is that what we are? A mistake and some white out? What a fucking_ _kick_ _._

Ai’s breath hitches, hands freezing. Nobody is there with him, he knows, but he can almost feel a body hovering over his shoulder.

“Maybe.” Ai whispers, voice wavering. “I'm only here for you. And if you think you're a mistake, then I must be white out.”

 _You don't think that_ , Aine hisses, suddenly loud. Ai flinches, a hand automatically going up to hold his forehead. _I know you can think for yourself asshole._

“I can.”

_Then tell me, what do you think, that you're just a correction to me?_

Ai stares blankly into the guts of Ranmaru’s laptop, vision swimming from the pressure against his skull.

“I think,” Ai says finally. “I think I'm only here to be _your_ crutch. I'm only here for _you_ . So whatever _you_ think matters more than what I think, even if I'm right, even if I tell the truth, _you_ will always matter more. What _you_ want matters more than what I think. So whatever _you_ think I am, _you're_ right.”

With that, Ai forces his blurred eyes to focus and shaking hands to return to the laptop.

If Aine has anything else to say, Ai doesn't listen. He locks himself into a corner of his own mind, thoughts switching to streams of zeroes and ones that force Aine back.

Ranmaru gets his laptop back the next morning, passed onto Masato by Ai, and it runs like a dream. He has half a mind to berate Ai, the other half deciding to do it over a thank you dinner.

* * *

 

Ai wonders, briefly, how _easy_ it seemed to be to have Itsuki’s stricken look on him. How easily _achieved_ the look was.

They had gotten together again to write another song, individual this time, and Itsuki had immediately taken residence on the piano bench after greeting Ai.

“I've had a melody stuck in my head for you,” she had said, hazel eyes brilliant and blazing as she immediately started playing.

“I can work with that,” Ai had replied confidently as he sat next to her, and Itsuki had _beamed_.

Now, though, her shoulders were set in a slouch, eyes searching. Ai isn't quite sure what she's looking for. Her sheet music was a little messy, Ai’s neat handwriting scratching in lyrics under the correlating lines, and Itsuki kept her gaze unwaveringly on Ai.

“What?” he asks, looking right back at her.

“. . . Nothing.” Itsuki says, voice thin, before turning back to the sheet music. “Let's just-- run through this one more time, yeah?”

“If that is what you'd like.” Ai concedes.

Itsuki hesitates, but then she starts playing and Ai sings, and he _feels_ somewhere in the pit of his stomach-- _he feels_ Winter Blossom drag the churning endlessness out through his throat. He's sure the doctor would call it catharsis, but for what this time, Ai wouldn't know; there's nothing Ai could imagine would make him feel like this.

Maybe his argument with Aine had made him a bit more bitter, a bit weaker against the onslaught that Aine always brought along; and maybe, ultimately, it really _was_ Aine who dictated Ai’s every move even if he didn't know it most of the time. Ai thinks that maybe, if he were someone else-- a _person_ , maybe-- he'd hate Aine more for controlling every inch of his life. But he doesn't, and Aine let's Ai write his own music in peace generally, so there's no reason for Ai to hate him.

“I hate writing sad songs.” Itsuki says once they're done. “I hate that you're sad, Mikaze. But it's important to you, isn't it? To write honestly?”

Ai blinks, glancing up at Itsuki and then immediately glancing off towards the piano keys.

“It is.” Ai finally says.

“Your lyrics are beautiful.” Itsuki replies, soft but confident.

“Ah-- thank you. It was never my intention to make you uncomfortable, though. I apologize.”

“It wasn't bad. It's like facing yourself in the mirror and telling yourself what you're feeling about yourself in the world.” Itsuki says, nudging Ai’s arm gently. “That's what it feels like to me when I hear it.”

With that, Itsuki plays a sweeter sounding melody. She's obviously trying to cheer herself up, and maybe Ai too; she bumps their shoulders together, soft and warm.

“I love sweet songs, because I love projecting joy. But you can't be happy all the time, can you? Same way you can't be sad all the time either. I think it's good that you're willing to be honest and open.” she says, melodies melting into each other with her words. Ai’s hands curl into fists, pulling on his sweater’s sleeves. “You value being clear, and it made me a little sad, but it's easier for me to understand you now. So thank you.”

Ai knows that she's trying to be kind; Itsuki had never projected herself as anything less than honest and sweet and Ai _knew_ she didn't know. But being honest was obviously something Ai was starting to lack, starting to doubt he was, and he _feels_ the weight of Reiji’s eyes, Ranmaru’s fingers on his hand, Camus’s ice across his cheeks. He feels them like a physical pressure, feels the unspoken questions-- _Who are you? Where have you been? What have you done?--_ and the lies that burn the roof of his mouth and blacken his lips-- _Nobody, nowhere, nothing_ \-- and Ai can’t help the bile that sears his throat.

Maybe, if there _was_ a god, it'll have pity on Ai’s cry for help and give him something to hold onto. And maybe, if it was a benevolent god, it would give Ai a way to escape all the weight bearing down on him.

“Thank you.” Ai whispers out of politeness. “Your compositions are wonderful as always.”

And as Itsuki and Ai finish up on the song, penning in a few alterations here and there, Ai feels the itching impulse to dunk himself into the pond right outside the window to cool off the burning under his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts :)? i know, i know, im kinda mean to starish in that i barely mention them, but theyre not my focus right now. hit me up at [my tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) for anything you wanna talk about, and for updates and the dumb shit i say when im writing lol
> 
> edit: [local sweetheart ethras made me more fanart of ai in this chapter and im lov it so much](https://twitter.com/BeedrilBaseball/status/922390920149983233)


	11. Puncture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scalpels to open you up, tweezers to pick you apart, poisons to taint your blood, and rusts to coat your skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hap thurs, it is late where i am and yet here i still am w a chapter so forgive me and thank u for ur patience. dissociation got me hard af these last couple of weeks so sorry if things seem disjointed.
> 
> correct me if u see anything wrong !!!

Seeing Starish grow as artists is _interesting_ . Ai hardly has time to breathe before it feels like the group is making more amends with their hang-ups than Ai has done in all his ( _particularly short_ , Aine reminds him) years. He's hardly surprised when Cecil joins the group; Ai is sure that it was Shining’s plan all along, anyway, to get him to join.

What does catch him by surprise, though, is how much _better_ Reiji looks when he's clucking over his juniors. He looks fulfilled, like he's got a purpose, and Ai can feel an _ache_ in his chest.

It hadn't occurred to Ai that maybe all the time spent together would inevitably make Reiji _sad_ ; being the spitting image of his “missing” best friend was bound to do that. The less time he and Ai spent together, the happier he seemed to be.

Tokiya could be a little bit ornery and Otoya could be a little bit clueless, but they were likely leagues better than Ai himself.

Despite everything, though, Ai feels that the whole mentorship experiences has turned for the better; Ai understands humans leagues more than before, with Syo and Natsuki being _very_ different subjects. Ranmaru has steadily loosened up again-- loosened, of course, in terms of _Ranmaru_ ; he'd stop fully ignoring his juniors, which meant there was a lot of insults flying at times, but it was better. Camus was still letting Cecil walk on a wire’s edge, but he'd stop the vicious complaining for a more succinct rapport.

All in all, when Shining tells them about the Unit songs idea, Ai feels that it's not the _worst_ thing to be done. It was nice, even, to see first hand how the juniors took to booths and mixing and the whole lot.

Ai had, maybe, hoped too much.

All of Starish takes to defending Cecil when Camus snaps at him after recording about mistakes and professionalism. Ai isn't even paying attention, knee deep in a quiet conversation with Ranmaru about the logistics of rock music and its transition from America to the rest of the world. They had barely even stepped _out_ of the actual studio, and the mess was already huge; it's a cluster of 6 around Cecil and Camus, Reiji trying to interject himself and mediate. Ai puts a hand on Ranmaru’s chest to stop him from stepping in, rolling his neck.

“ _Stop arguing_ .” Ai says, not yelling but loud enough to sound harsh. “This is no place to be arguing, _any of you_ . We’re _professionals_ , and you will all _act like it_.”

There's only a moment of stillness before Syo ( _of course it's Syo, it's always Syo_ ) bursts out.

“Camus--”

“Camus should know better.” Ai says, giving Camus a hard look and feeling an excited titter from Aine. A suggestion, a smile. “Now _scatter_. We all have work to do.”

Ai can see Ren look over towards Ranmaru, an eyebrow raised, and Ai can feel Ranmaru shrug slowly under the back of his hand.

“He has a point,” Ranmaru say gruffly. “Get on with it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I think it's best if we all just cooled down, okay? We'll see each other later.” Reiji adds, hands held up placatingly.

Ai ignores the worried look Reiji gives him to instead face Camus head on. This was likely to be their first spat, as far as Ai can tell, and Ai truly believes he's ready for it; argument isn't something he's really ever feared, not if Aine had any say in it.

Ai is not ready for the immediate reaction Camus takes into _ignoring_ him. Camus just. . . turns around and sort of refuses to speak to Ai outside of work.

It stings. Ai doesn't want to figure out why.

Instead, Ai hyper focuses on the Uta Pri Award, focuses on pushing Syo and Natsuki harder. They notice, of course, that Ai suddenly becomes a lot more helpful with his tips and insistent on training; both lack the grace to not mention it.

“Ai-chan, are you okay?” Natsuki asks one night, after a round of disastrous cooking. Ai is kneeling on the countertop, cleaning above the cabinets where somehow a rain flour had managed to reach. “You seem nervous lately.”

“Do I? I did not think my behavior was conveying nervousness.” Ai replies as a puff of flour coats his right arm. “I apologize if it has affected you negatively.”

“It's not that!” Syo says from his place at the sink, scrubbing some _particularly_ burnt paprika on a pan; Natsuki stands next to him, scrubbing cilantro and chunks of caramelized sugar off of the bottom of a pot. “We’re just worried about you!”

“You should worry about yourselves with the Uta Pri awards approaching.” Ai replies, looking down at the two sharply. “There is no time for distractions.”

“We should've expected that from Ai.” Syo says with a snort, and Ai goes right back to cleaning.

_You're so very predictable._

_So are you._

* * *

 

Watching Starish practice makes Aine burst into hysterical laughter every time. They're a pack of too-moody teenagers trying to keep each other in check while also stumbling around in the dark. Ai would hazard to say Quartet Night could be described almost the same, with more professionalism and at _least_ one adult. Sort of.

The four are standing above Starish on a balcony when they first get their song, and Ai can't help but press his thumb into his other hand, rubbing in circles. Reiji is ecstatic.

“We should do more group work, guys!” Reiji says, spinning around to look at the other three. “It would be so much fun!”

Ranmaru looks ready to fight. Camus looks ready to leave. Ai can't let either of those things happen, for the sake of the voice in his head and the blinding smile across from him.

“I wouldn't be opposed.” Ai says, soft but clear. “We-- are good, together, as a band. Musically.”

That. . . was pretty incoherent, now that Ai thought about it. But Reiji catches onto the tail end of his sentence and starts steamrolling over any opposition like the most powerful puppy in the world.

“I don't _do_ group work.” Ranmaru says moodily, arms crossed. Reiji leans in close.

“C’mon Ranmaru, I _know_ you like singing with us. Poison Kiss was fun!”

Camus is giving them a considering look and turns towards Ranmaru and Reiji, and for a moment, Ai is locked out. He digs his finger into his palm harder, feels the resistance of the silicone against his nail, and then he lets go because if he punctures the skin he'd have to explain himself.

It had been a long time since Ai had last forgotten his own strength. He's not sure the doctor would even start to buy it.

* * *

 

The dance practice makes Ai question Starish but also bring up a small swell of pride in his chest. Syo had changed _a_ _lot_ and Ai can't help but feel that maybe he had a hand in softening Syo's anger a bit; if nothing, Ai had experience with wearing anger down. Seeing Syo help Cecil practice felt like a small thank you.

(It wasn't, but Ai rarely had the chance to question his thoughts more as of late. They were jumbled, chewed up, and tinted red. They were all wrong and he wasn't sure how to fix them.)

“And to think I was ready to teach ‘em.” Reiji says with a soft grin. Ai had noticed those coming up more lately.

“I've got my hands full with Aijima.” Camus laments.

“How are they going to be ready in time?” Ai asks, and the inside of his skull goes bizarrely quiet. “At this rate, their dissolution is assured.”

“You don't usually worry, Ai-Ai.” Reiji says turning towards Ai. It's open body language, towards Ai, like Reiji is actually communicating with Ai.

He realizes it's because Reiji _is_ talking to him.

Ai keeps the jolt into himself, arms loose to his sides. Reiji hadn't referred to Ai directly in a good while. Aine has no comments. The prickle of Camus’s stare is crippling. It almost feels like too much attention after so long without it.

Reiji says something Ai is sure falls under the “inspiring” category. Something about belief.

“I believe in them.” Reiji had said.

_Of course he does,_ Aine whispers later as Ai sits at his desk. _He likes to believe in the runts. Underdogs._

“Everything is obvious though,” Ai says to his screen, watching his own reflection. “The data--”

_You and data_ , Aine sighs coldly, _Can you get over that? The world doesn't actually work in functions and shit._

“Yes, I realize that.”

_You don't like it either._

“I cannot like things.”

_Oh my god Ai one day, ONE DAY I will kick your ass!,_ Aine groans and Ai can imagine him rolling his eyes. _You were worried weren't you? Proud? You even felt rejection-- even_ _I_ _felt that._

Ai feels the flinch roll across his skin, burn through his wires and make him dizzy.

“Shut up.” he whispers. The words sting, angry and unreal on his tongue. “Just _shut up_ for once in your life. _Leave me alone_.”

Ai doesn't give Aine a chance, returns to his coding and doesn't give himself time to think; Ai burns through equations that are too long to voice and too riddled with letters to ever actually hope to find  an answer for. It was better to be over heated from that than to be forced to think on things that he couldn't _actually_ feel.

(Ai isn't sure if he doesn't want to delude himself into thinking he has emotions only to find out otherwise, or if he doesn't want to give anyone the hope that he does when he doesn't. Both seem equally bitter.)

His internal sensors eventually flag him for food, and Ai mechanically gets up and starts walking to the kitchen only to stop at the threshold. He eyes the spotlessness, since Natsuki was too busy with practice to make a mess, and makes the decision to turn back around.

Being alone wasn't doing him a world of good right now.

Ai finds his phone, scrolling easily to the “R” section.

**To** : Ranmaru

[Are you currently working?]

The reply is almost immediate. Ai smiles a little, just a small twitch.

**To** : Ai

[What do you need, twerp?]

**To** : Ranmaru

[I was hoping to be able to eat with someone today.]

**To** : Ai

[What, does the quiet gets to you?]

Ai snorts, soft and breathy. It wasn't the quiet; Ai would do anything for peace right then and there. But it was better Ranmaru than Aine.

Ai doesn't even have time to respond before the next text is in.

**To** : Ai

[I was gonna order out but if you're planning on stopping by then I might as well make something.]

Ai raises an eyebrow, lips pressed together in amusement.

**To** : Ranmaru

[If it troubles you too much, I can just stay here.]

**To** : Ai

[just shut up and get over here already]

Ai laughs, not unkindly, and shakes his head. Instead of responding, he drops his phone back onto his desk and decides to get changed.

It takes ten minutes to arrive at Ranmaru’s dorm. When Ranmaru opens for him, he eyes Ai’s grey and red sweater a little.

“I thought I'd never see the day you dressed like the rest of us when we have time off.” Ranmaru teases, letting Ai in with little fanfare.

“You saw me when I was putting up the hologram machines.” Ai shoots back, fingers curling into the red sleeves.

“Yeah but that looked more like “I've been awake for 48 hours and I haven't changed” than a chill out outfit.” Ranmaru argues, shutting the door and stepping back into the kitchen. Ai can't help but follow, leaning against the wall of the threshold. “And I'm pretty sure I'm right.”

“It wasn't 48 hours.” Ai replies with a slight pout. “It was hardly 24. It was 20 hours and 49 minutes.”

“Oh, yes,” Ranmaru snorts from where he's standing over the stove. “I guess I _should_ be shocked you didn't clock in two days of work without rest, right?”

Ai huffs, but he realizes he's smiling a bit. Ranmaru, with his hard teasing and undeniable mother henning, had managed to drag some of the pressure from around Ai’s throat.

“Do you need any help?” Ai asks, straightening up.

“Nah. I don't really like people cooking with me honestly.”

“Oh?”

“It's my way or no way.” Ranmaru says, shooting Ai a shit eating grin for a second.

“I can already imagine. What are you making?”

“Beef stew.”

Ai makes a soft, pleased noise; something warm always did wonders to his mood. Crossing his arms, Ai presses his palms against his sides and slouches a little bit. Ranmaru glances over once more.

“I just need to add a few more things and then let it simmer for a while.” Ranmaru says, making his way to a cupboard to grab something. “Go sit and I'll be out in a bit.”

“Okay. I’m not rushed, so please don’t be concerned.”

With that, Ai takes a step back and makes his way over to the couch instead, settling on a corner and trying to relax. Ranmaru had been the only one not avoiding Ai lately, and even if they didn't talk every day, Ai felt comfortable with where they were at. He'd have preferred Camus just by virtue of the fact that Camus could _literally_ cool him off, but that wasn't really an option at the moment. Ai tilts his head against the back of the couch and shuts his eyes.

A single point of pressure appears on Ai's forehead after a few minutes. Ai opens his eyes a little to glare at Ranmaru.

“Yes?”

“You look like Camus when you do that.” Ranmaru says with a snort.

Ai bites the inside of his cheek. Ranmaru presses his knuckle against Ai’s forehead-- familiar, at this point, since it's how Ranmaru had taken to checking Ai’s temperature.

“Speakin’ about that bastard,” Ranmaru starts and Ai hums.

“What about Camus?”

“I don't like to involve myself, but you're on fire and he's usually the one who you go to for that.”

Ai opens his mouth, shuts it with a soft _click_ , before finally getting the words out.

“He is. . . displeased with me. He has not spoken to me in some time.” Ai decides to say finally. “I am unsure that there is any possibility of him being receptive of me at this time.”

“So he's ignoring you because you called him out for being a dick?”

Ai gives Ranmaru a blank look.

“He's sore about it.” Ranmaru continues, free hand resting next to Ai’s head so that he can lean on it. “And he's an ass. You call everyone out equally so I don't see why he's such a dick about it.”

“I. . . do, ah, _call out_ everyone equally I suppose.” Ai concedes. He feels Ranmaru’s knuckle slide down to his temple, still monitoring but allowing more eye contact than before. “I did not think it was such an offense though.”

“He says he's a duke or whatever, I don't think he takes being corrected very well.” Ranmaru replies with an eye roll. “I'm pretty sure he barely resists throttling Shining.”

Ai huffs out a soft laugh, eyes opening a little more.

_Everyone barely resists throttling Shining._

Ai flinches a little, fans whirring harder, and he shuts his eyes. He can hear Ranmaru growl out a little “ _Christ_ ” and Ai scrubs his eyes with a sleeve-covered hand.

_Loud_.

“Ai?”

“It’s-- hot, very, very hot.” Ai mumbles. “I just need to-- cool down for a while, I'm sorry.”

“I think you should call Camus,” Ranmaru starts but Ai quickly shakes his head.

_No, it'll only be worse--_

“No, I just need to nap. It'll keep the fans running but the systems shut off, meaning I'll actually go down in temperature.”

Ai moves to stand up and Ranmaru makes an annoyed noise.

“I'm not gonna let you walk out of here like that.” Ranmaru says firmly, pushing Ai down to sit. “You're gonna nap here, we’re gonna eat, and then I'm gonna make sure you get back to your dorm safe. Clear?”

“I'm not going to collapse--” Ai argues and Ranmaru puts a hand over Ai’s mouth.

“You're not going anywhere.”

Ranmaru and Ai have a small glaring match that Ranmaru inevitably wins. Ai sighs, letting Ranmaru push him across the couch cushions with ease.

“You can be quite involved for someone who claims to not enjoy involvement.” Ai snips as he lays down, turning onto his back to look up at Ranmaru.

“I'm doin’ ya a favor twerp, shut up.” Ranmaru growls, leaning over the couch to cast shadows across Ai’s face.

Ai snorts and closes his eyes.

“Brat,” Ranmaru finally huffs out without conviction as he straightens up. “I might just dump a bag of ice on you.”

“I'm waterproofed enough.” Ai taunts back, and Ranmaru just barely laughs.

So Ai settles, lets himself sink into the safety of coding to avoid Aine for a little longer. He feels Ranmaru pass by a few times, pressing the back of his hand on Ai’s forehead each time.

(The touches linger a little, as if making sure Ranmaru isn’t underestimating the temperature; _it's nice,_ Ai can't help but think, words lost in a fold of systems diagnostics and veiled monitoring.)

Ai is ready when Ranmaru taps his forehead annoyingly. Eyes flicking open, Ai is met with a cascade of silver hair and mismatched eyes. With a flutter of his lashes, Ai lifts his hand and curls his index finger around Ranmaru’s. Ranmaru tugs gently. Ai let his arm be pulled up a little bit.

“Stew’s done.” Ranmaru says, giving Ai another little tug. “Come eat.”

“I was napping so well.” Ai says, tugging Ranmaru back.

“Whatever, twerp, just get up.”

Ranmaru holds on for one more moment before slowly uncurling their fingers, pressing his knuckles one more time to Ai’s temple. The motion makes something in Ai curl up.

Ai gets up, and eating feels like a blur; he knows it's good, and he remembers laughing a few times over the table, but the good mood feels. . . _surreal_. Like, somehow, it shouldn't be happening, and that, somehow, things were going to be worse off because he was taking a moment that shouldn't be happening. Like maybe this was too pleasant to be reality, and that Ai had intruded on a whole different timeline where he wasn’t tormented by constant chatter and a mouth sewn shut.

It doesn't make any sense.

Ranmaru takes Ai back to his dorm once they’re done, one arm draped annoyingly across Ai’s shoulders while his free hand tucks itself into his pocket. Ai let's him, regardless of how bothersome, because Ranmaru was best met with nonverbal cues anyway. Its why Ai let's himself slouch, press his cheek against Ranmaru’s shoulder every once in awhile, his jacket rough but worn.

There's no movement under Ai’s door when they get there; Ai had doubted Syo and Natsuki be back yet, but a part of him had wondered anyway if maybe he wouldn't have only his thoughts for sleep.

“Thank you.” Ai says once they're untangled and he's got a foot through the door.

“Don't mention it, you might give Reiji ideas.” Ranmaru replies, the image of relaxed coolness. Ai had come to learn how well practiced the movements were.

Ai just manages to tick a smile onto the corners of his lips.

“Goodnight.”

“ ‘Night.”

Ai steps inside and shuts the door. He can hear when Ranmaru walks off and down the hall, waits until the footsteps fade away before sitting on his bed. Ai brings his legs up to his chest, rests his cheek against his knee, and stares at the wall blankly for a moment.

A small shudder wracks through him. A small sob bubbles up.

He doesn't remember going to bed that night; he has trouble accessing the memories.

Ai decides he's better off not knowing for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i rly wanted to make them kiss guys. i had to stop every few minutes to resist my dirty shipping urges and go on witht he plot. the struggle was so fucking real.
> 
> come hang out w me on my [tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/)
> 
> 11/12/17 Update and Announcement:  
> Catoptromancy is going on a little hiatus! I was trying to avoid burnout bc I’ve never made a multichapter fic that actually updated consistently like catoptromancy, but its hit me full force. It actually hurts my heart a lot to say this bc i care about catoptromancy a lot and its just been very important to me so to go on hiatus just burns. I still have plot planned out but I just really can’t force myself to write it right now. I’m still gonna write bc its just something i do, and i might even post some stuff, but I just need to relax from catoptromancy for now.
> 
> Thank you for understanding!
> 
> 1/2/18:  
> HEY I CAME OUT OF HIATUS AND FORGOT TO UPDATE THIS, UPDATING AGAIN FEELS HELLA NICE Y'ALL


	12. Compunction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quadrants that do not comply with each other are quadrants that drift apart in the waves. Luckily, not all quadrants are complacent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAP THRUS
> 
> GUESS WHOS BACK BACK, BACK AGAIN 'GAIN, KIRI'S BACK BACK, SHE AVOIDED WRITING HER TERM PAPER OUT OF FEAR AND INSTEAD WROTE CAT
> 
> cat has returned from the war yall
> 
> as always if u see shit wrong, do tell me, i have to see this so much im numb to it

The Uta Pri awards go surprisingly well-- HEAVENS gave a good scare and a fair shake, but in the end Starish prevailed. Somehow, Ai hadn’t doubted it; Starish had a conviction unparalleled by any other group Ai had analyzed and that was actually _pleasantly_ noted.

It had been the most pleasant thing in Ai’s life, lately, if living was _this_. He couldn't dwell on the circling thoughts without overheating, though, so it'd have to be living for now.

Shining has the audacity to announce that Quartet Night needed some _variety_ in their songs, and that Ai and Camus should sing a duet, and Ranmaru and Reiji another, like Ai wasn’t struggling already. Ai wanted to say no-- Reiji wouldn't be better but Ranmaru would, singing with the one person who wasn't on bad terms with him would be nice-- but he was put in a room with Camus and expected to write a song with him.

Ai curls up around his notebook, one hand buried into his hair and the other tapping his pen against the page. He didn't _like_ keeping hard copies of anything but he was expected to, anyway.

It's tense. It's awkward. Ai starts scribbling ideas down, feeling warm as he flicks through other pages for ideas. They had all agreed on going for a dreamier feel, and Reiji had snapped his fingers and said something about _ashes_ before pulling Ranmaru into their designated room.

“What about a fairytale?” Ai says suddenly, scraping his nails against the corner of the page.

“Do you have one in mind?”

Ai pauses, bites his lip.

 _Cinderella_ , Aine suggests and something feels wrong. _At midnight you turn back into the normal you and can't dream anymore. But before then?_

_You can pretend._

“What about Cinderella.” Ai says, and if there's something strangled in his voice, he doesn't let it stop him. “It _is_ all about the fantasy of being a princess, right? And then, after midnight the fantasy disappears. But it doesn't really end for her, because she ends up marrying the prince anyway. It’s like a dream come true.”

Camus makes an interested noise and nods slowly. He taps his foot, and Ai starts to feel a rhythm build; he begins drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair, weaving them with each other.

 _Too bad neither of us are Cinderella._ Aine mutters, throwing Ai’s rhythm off; Ai covers it up by writing into his notes. _We won't get a happy ending after midnight._

 _That depends,_ Ai replies softly. _What is our midnight? What are we even doing?_

_I don't know._

_What constitutes a happy ending, Aine?_

_. . .I don’t know. I don’t know what would make me happy. Maybe--_

Ai blinks, because Camus just asked him a question and Ai has been scribbling “after midnight, what will happen?” over and over while talking to Aine. He grinds his teeth a little.

“I apologize, what was that?” Ai asks, not looking up.

“I asked if you were feeling well.” Camus repeats.

“I am perfectly functional.” Ai says and then looks up, eye to eye with Camus. “Is there any reason for you to concern yourself?”

There's a staring match, tension palpable between them. Ai feels fidgety and flighty, tugging his pen between his fingers in a restless motion. There's a yell from next door from Ranmaru and Reiji’s room, and Ai purses his lips in amusement; it sounded like Reiji. He hears Ranmaru yell, “Oh my god, you idiot!” in response to whatever Reiji just did, and Ai closes his eyes and snorts.

Ai’s phone vibrates with a text a few seconds later.

 **From** : Ranmaru

 **To** : Ai

[He's an idiot.]

Ai taps back a quick reply, lips curled.

 **To** : Ranmaru

[Please don't hurt him, he can't help himself.]

There's a bark of laughter from the other side of the wall and Ai sighs, shoulders sloping and relaxing. Placing his phone down, Ai looks at Camus with more passivity than before; there's still some apprehension but Ai feels better. He wasn’t helping anyone by being uncooperative, even if he and Camus hadn't been talking at all lately.

 _Professionalism_.

“Let's get started, yes?”

* * *

 

Reiji is a babbling idealist, and Ranmaru having to sit in a room with him and deal with that until a song got written was a nightmare. At least they had an idea from the start to work with.

“Something about always trying to achieve impossible goals,” Reiji says, bouncing on his feet as he walks around. “But always coming back when you fail. Like a phoenix!”

“Okay, its not bad.” Ranmaru says, because it's _not_ bad at all. “But I can do you one better.”

That’s how it starts. Between them, there's more of a back and forth to build a song worth singing; they suggest lyrics and then sing them out, much quicker for them, and Reiji writes down the lyrics they agree on. A focused Reiji is one who takes no time to mess around, and Ranmaru appreciates that.

It's all pleasant until they decide to take a break. Reiji settles into his seat, sprawled and comfortable. It’s Ranmaru who decides to break the sense of peace.

“I've got a question.” Ranmaru says after a few minutes of relaxed silence. Reiji hums and nods. “So. You're pretty weird, but you're extra weird around Ai.”

“Am I?” Reiji asks, shifting in his seat a bit. “I don't think so!”

“The other day you said he was acting like someone else.” Ranmaru points out, sitting up. “That wouldn't mean anything to me if you weren't constantly being _that_ level of weird around him. I don't like getting involved usually, but he's already in a spat with the asshole and it’s going to affect us eventually.”

Reiji rolls his head back, then to the left, to the right, restless, before finally sitting up to look at Ranmaru. He doesn't look trapped, not quite yet, but Ranmaru can tell he's not enjoying the line of questioning.

“It's really nothing.” Reiji insists. “I don't act any different around him than I do with you or Camus!”

“I wouldn't really say that.” Ranmaru shoots back, leaning in. “At least you _talk_ to us. Last time I saw _you_ speak _to Ai_ was when he started a conversation.”

“That's not true!” Reiji yelps, sharp and loud, standing up quickly. “I talk to him!”

“You really could’a fooled me!” Ranmaru yells back, standing up too. “I literally haven't seen you _or_ Camus talk to him considering Ai and I have practically been forced together because I’m the only one who _talks_ to him directly! I'm not an idiot, I think I can _tell_ when someone's being shut out!”

Reiji swallows hard, taking a step back.

“And if you want to keep a band _together_ ,” Ranmaru growls out, getting into Reiji’s space. “You don't _actively ignore_ one of the members!”

“Oh my god.” Reiji says quietly, stumbling back onto his chair. He falls heavily, the sound loud in the room. “Oh my god, I _am_ ignoring him, aren't I?”

“ _Oh my god, you idiot_!”

It's loud enough that Ranmaru is sure they can hear it next door, and he can't help but pull out his phone. It's easy to text Ai, frustration leaking into every keystroke. The reply he gets is surprisingly quick.

 **From** : Ai

 **To** : Ranmaru

[Please don't hurt him, he can't help himself.]

Ranmaru laughs, throwing himself back into his seat. Leave it to Ai to have benevolence towards an asshole.

“I'm terrible, I'm the worst!” Reiji mutters, covering his face.

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Rude!”

“ _You_ said it!”

Reiji groans and sinks into himself, upset. Ranmaru almost feels bad, but he's not sorry; he really wasn't an idiot and it was obvious Reiji had taken to not speaking to Ai. For someone who had wanted Quartet Night to grow together, he was being hypocritical. If Ranmaru could help keep at least one of his bands together, he was going to do it.

Ranmaru sits back and watches Reiji come to terms with his own stupidity. He imagines this would become a common sight.

* * *

 

Two hours later, an intern stops by on Shining’s request and knocks on each door to shuffle them out in concern.

Reiji looks wrecked. Ai looks exhausted. The intern leaves, uncomfortable, as soon as they were out.

The way Ai automatically drifts towards Ranmaru, notebook clutched against his side protectively, and how Ranmaru immediately takes to him speaks volumes to the kind of day everyone is having. Even with his new found awareness, Reiji doesn’t feel whole enough to try and talk to Ai.

They don't manage to really talk as a group about their song writing experiences; it's easier to scatter than to try and stick together through the tension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im happy to be baaaaaaack and guysssssss i finally feel like im gettin to the nitty fukin gritty of thissssss
> 
> just fiy i wrote a one shot and a 5+1 while i was gone from cat if you guys are curious about that
> 
> as always, i am on [tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) and i love talking to you guys so dont ever hesitate to hit me uppppp


	13. Deluge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The deluge arrives; a great wave to stir the waters and clean the mind.
> 
> (Can a flood ever truly clean, though?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hap thurs yall i like this Big Boye of a chapter quite a lot!!!
> 
> Warning: someone throws up in this chapter. Its not described v much or anything but just warning bc it might be squicky
> 
> also this ch is lowkey dedicated to elicheesa bc i promised her Lesbians and ive Begun my Delivery
> 
> as always if u see any problems/errors, pls tell me !!!

Ai could cry, actually, genuinely  _ sob _ , when he hears that they have to do a photoshoot set up on the beach. He  _ does _ cry (privately, in the depths of the lab while the doctor was downstairs, sitting on a desolate office printer he’d managed to clean up) when he realizes they’d have to go back for a while to  _ compose _ with Haruka.

She was a wonderful composer, Ai knew, and there was no reason to feel so much scorn when it wasn't her fault, but rancor burns in his chest regardless

Ai calls up Itsuki up for a round of morning tea.

They sit outside in the summer sunshine, the pale umbrella stuck into the table doing little to deter it. Itsuki looks put together as opposed to work harried, in a light blue skirt and white frilly blouse. She seemed happy to talk to Ai, so Ai hoped this would go well. She had even arrived early, which had made Ai smile as he sat.

“Ai!” Itsuki says excitedly. “I'm so glad you called! I was going stir crazy, honestly.”

“It was all my pleasure.” Ai replies. “Is there any reason you're feeling, ah, stir crazy?”

“Well! My singers are having a little fight, cause they're idiots.” Itsuki starts, leaning onto her elbows. “And one if them, you know Mikako right?”

Ai hums his agreement-- he knew of Itsuki’s idols, a vivacious pair that matched and complemented Itsuki well.

“Well she-- Ai, we're friends right?” Itsuki cuts off again, leaning in close. There's something vulnerable in her eyes, and Ai leans in and puts a hand on hers reassuringly. “You can keep a secret?”

“Of course.”

“Well, Mika and I are  _ together _ .” Itsuki whispers. “So she wants me to take her side, but they're  _ both _ wrong.”

Ai nods, giving Itsuki a gentle smile. She relaxes and sits back down, and they both resettle comfortably. A waitress sweeps by to take their order, looking tired but still trying, and Ai can't help but think,  _ Me too _ . They order, and it's easy for Itsuki to talk about how the whole mess started. Over tea, Ai gives her advice as the official fight manager of his own group, and Itsuki laughs and thanks him in equal measures. They're almost done when Itsuki lets out a horrified gasp, startling Ai.

“What?” Ai says, head tilted to the side.

“I've just been jabbering on about myself without even asking about you!” Itsuki laments, scooting her chair closer. “I'm so sorry!”

“It was no bother.” Ai replies easily, giving her a reassuring smile.

“Well, whatever,” she says, waving her hand casually. “Tell me, what's going on with you?”

“Ah. Normal hectic schedule of an idol as I am sure you know well.” Ai replies airily, leaning back.

“I don't think you'd call me for anything less than a mess.” Itsuki declares, eyes glittering.

“Is it a crime to want to speak to a friend?” Ai feigns, hand going over where his heart would be. The whole mood of the morning had softened Ai’s stiff lip, no Aine needed.

“You're a workaholic Ai,” Itsuki says plainly. “You don't  _ take _ time off. Time off beats your schedule down to a bloody pulp to make room for itself.”

Ai laughs, low and quiet but obviously delighted at Itsuki’s theatrics. He wanted to be used to  _ this _ , this bright mocking tone as opposed to the volatile one in his head. The one Itsuki used so fondly with him. The one Ranmaru fumbled around with. Hell, even the icy one Camus used to be so fond of using around him.

“It has been an, ah,  _ off _ few weeks.” Ai offers, tugging at a loose string on his shirtsleeve. “Our band dynamic has not been stable. I feel that I may have caused too many ruptures.”

“You? Causing  _ ruptures _ ?” Itsuki scoffs. “What, did you accidentally calculate your taxes too hard or something? Your math prowess is scary, yeah, but probably not  _ that _ scary.”

Ai laughs again but shakes his head.

“No, I did not, I assure you. But regardless of what I did, we have an  _ extended _ photoshoot this week. And so my concerns are. . .” Ai trails off uncertainly.

“Sounds messy.” Itsuki says with a sympathetic nod.

“And-- well,” Ai continues, leaning over. With a little twist of his lips, he manages a small smile. “You can keep a secret, can’t you?”

Itsuki grins and nods, blonde curls bouncing excitedly as she leans in.

“Of course!”

“The shoot is on the beach,” Ai murmurs and he pauses, wondering. He had never really said it out loud. “And I am  _ terrified _ of the ocean.”

Itsuki gasps, covering her mouth.

“Oh Ai!” she says. “That’s-- jeez, that's a  _ lot _ for one shoot.”

“I can do it,” Ai assures quickly. “But. . . well, I thought why not have a relaxing time before then? So thank you for your time today, Itsuki.”

“Anytime, Ai.” Itsuki promises, voice low. She lets out a choked laugh, shaking her head. “Ai?”

“Yes?”

“You have the impeccable talent of making me blindingly happy, cripplingly sad, and wildly protective all at once.” and with that, Itsuki flicks Ai’s forehead.

“Hey!”

But Ai manages a smile and a laugh, and Itsuki looks pleased. Ai pays the bill under Itsuki’s nose, garnering her momentary ire, but its all gone once they get ready to leave.

“Before you leave,” Itsuki says, stopping Ai in his tracks. “I just need you to know that if you ever need to talk, I'm always here. You can come crunch my taxes and we can talk shop.”

“Sounds like you benefit more than I do.” Ai jokes, and Itsuki punches his shoulder lightly. “But I will keep it in mind. Thank you Itsuki.”

“Anytime.”

* * *

They arrive at the resort before Starish do, which is almost typical. When they're ushered outside and towards a table, Ai sits himself last; next to Ranmaru, behind Camus and Reiji. Reiji had been weird lately-- he seemed to be trying to breach the wall of silence that had appeared between them, but was terrible at it so far, always faltering and hesitating before letting out a weak, stuttering pleasantry.

Seeing him talk to Otoya, beaming like the sun had nothing on him, made Ai’s heart hurt and sweeten in equal measures.

“But you're not giving up, are you?” Ai says when they bring up the Triple S. It hadn't really surprised Ai that Shining had chosen them for the Triple S, if only to stir up controversy between the two groups.

_ Reiji only cheers for scrappy underdogs, _ Aine says after the whole affair.  _ If they don't fight, then what's the point? _

Ai hums his agreement, hiding it into his itinerary. His shoot was late at night, something horror related, while everyone else had shoots throughout the day.  _ Get shafted, _ Aine says, but Ai doesn't quite mind; he still gets to spend time with his juniors, who have become more than test subjects. Syo and Natsuki were vibrant in their own ways, and even if Ai didn't feel as connected to them as to Quartet Night, they were still fun to be around.

When Ai hears about the little stunt Ranmaru pulls during his section of filming, playing with a street band, Ai has to laugh under his jacket collar. He's restless, and it had been hard to keep his reactions to himself lately. It catches Ranmaru by surprise, and he playfully drapes an arm across Ai’s shoulder.

(There’s a concerned tightness there, though; like he knows better than to trust an open Ai in such volatile times.)

It's right before Ai has to head out for his own shoot, everyone reconvening for a little while in the resort’s lobby.

“Of course,” Ai says to Ranmaru as Ren and Masato recount the experience. “How could you resist some drama?”

“Rude!”

Ai shakes his head, sighing. He can hear the surf despite the distance and walls, the moon a thin crescent in the air, strung up by a thread of beaming stars. The world outside of the resort calls to him,  _ what will happen, what will happen? _ it says, and the thoughts are shaken out of him through a shudder when he finally leaves the resort with his juniors.

The world smells like salt, even in the forest they’re wandering through. Everything smells like the sea, and they're  _ so far away _ but Ai can still hear the burst of waves against a shoreline,  _ come here, come with me, come to us, _ and he forces himself to think in ones and zeros or else the call would become too strong.

Syo is terrified, and Ai wants to do more than just rattle off facts to him; he wants to tease Syo, make him feel ridiculous instead of fearful, purge the fear before it hurts his heart. But that would mean leaving the crevice of code he's made himself, into a world with Aine’s acidic voice and a siren call that can't be real, and Ai has been brave enough for the day.

* * *

Ai feels like a disaster, standing next to his bandmates in beachwear, listening as they’re directed to get into the water with their juniors. Nobody  _ else _ seems to be aware of his status as a disaster, so far, which was good.

There was literally not enough bravery in the world for Ai to face the ocean while at full mental capacity. It was times like these where he wished things like xanax were actually useful to him. Every time someone puts him next to the water, Ai feels like he's going to pass out; white flashes over his vision, stars on a backdrop of movement, but he follows orders anyway, because if he doesn't they'll ask questions.

He's so,  _ so _ glad they filmed the singing parts the day before; Ai is almost sure the only noise that would come out of him after this was heavy, desperate whirring.

When the director tells Ai he has to go into the water for a little, Ai nods without hesitation. Bile rises, quick and sharp, and Ai regrets having the facsimile of a stomach he has like he's never regretted anything before.

He gets to settle on a blow up turtle, feet dipped in the water, with Syo and Natsuki flanking him. They keep the float close as the photo shoot flies by, and they're pretty close to the shore for all intents and purposes, but nothing makes the nausea any better. Ai is eternally grateful when Natsuki carries him out of the ocean in a hug, squealing and cooing familiarly. Ai has absorbed nothing of what he's heard all day, so far withdrawn from the moment that he can only imagine how it'll destroy him once he regains his sense of reality.

The day could not go faster. The day could not go slower. In total, the day could not be worse.

After the shoot, Starish decides to stay behind on the beach; Ai remembers they had a bonfire the night before, so it only made sense that they'd do it again before leaving the next morning. Reiji stays behind, promising to catch up with the rest of them later, and Ai gives an empty nod.

Ai cannot possibly resist a moment more on the sand.

* * *

The resort house is nice and quiet; the lights burn low and warm, and footsteps are padded by the sprawling rugs. Ai wants to feel comfortable while he washes away the stench of  _ salt heat sun sand cold pressure _ \-- but it's slowly coming to him in the shower. The fog of the day lifts as he gets dressed, pressure mounting in his skull at every little thing. It's all a terrible way to end the night, but Ai will just have to take it for what it is: repression comes with consequences.

Ai manages to step out if the bathroom with only a growing headache; the nausea is still there, but it's more manageable than before. He also manages to step out just as Reiji is walking back in, looking more wet than Ai remembers leaving him.

“Ai-Ai!” Reiji calls out cheerily, speeding up. “You guys really missed out! Syo shoved me into the water, but I managed to drag him in with me, so it was pretty fun!”

Reiji stands right in front of Ai, rubbing a beach towel into his hair gently, and the smell of ocean hits Ai full force once more. Ai must make a noise, because Reiji stops suddenly, giving Ai a confused look, but Ai can't hear anything. He's got tunnel vision; a tinny message over a phone with a familiar voice,  _ can’t answer right now _ , sea spray brushing up against his cheeks, a prickly determination to do something incredibly stupid. Reiji puts a hand on Ai’s cheek, humid.

“Ai, you're burning up?” Reiji says, eyebrows know together.

_ No, no no no, NO _

The smell is right under Ai’s nose and that's what pushes him over the edge. Ai stumbles back into the bathroom, away from Reiji, and throws up into the toilet in one smooth collapse. It shudders right through him, burning, searing  _ heat _ against the chill in his bones.

“ _ Ai _ !”

Reiji rushes in after Ai, wincing and kneeling next to him. Without thinking, Reiji pulls Ai’s hair up and rubs his back gently, feeling every shake across his spine.

They both remember a different person, hungover and tired, hunched there. The memory makes Ai gag harder. Ai hates Dr. Kisaragi in that moment, hates with every inch of himself, hates Aine and hates Reiji and hates the world at large. Mostly, though, Ai finds that he hates  _ himself _ , hates his reactions, hates that his systems check is just telling him that there should be nothing  _ wrong _ .

_ Everything is wrong _ !, Ai thinks, and it really is his thought for once, not nebulous and vague but strong and toxic,  _ Everything is wrong, I've got everything wrong, everything, everything. _

Ai feels something cool settle on his neck, spreading, spreading across his scalp, down his spine, curling onto his throat and cheeks, a distressed freeze. The burn in his head lingers, but it's starting to be fought away, fought fiercely, because Ai can feel the ice melting a little and dripping from his hairline. Ai coughs, wheezing a little, before blindly reaching out to flush.

He still feels dizzy, head finally bursting through the clouds, and that's when he hears what's actually going on around him.

“--Christ, he's absolutely  _ burning _ .” Ranmaru murmurs. “I thought he was being quiet today but I didn't realize he was  _ sick _ .”

“Neither did I.” Camus says-- and that's the cold on Ai, not some well-woven hallucination.

“I was just talking to him and then, he, he just went and threw up!” Reiji says, loud but further away. The hand on his back must be Ranmaru’s now.

“Go shower and get decent, alright, we’ve got this.” Ranmaru says, and if Ai could thank Ranmaru without giving himself up, he would.

There's silence, and then slow footsteps away. Ai sighs, rolling his shoulders a little.

“How do you feel?” Ranmaru says, letting Ai’s hair go.

“Like I just threw up.” Ai replies, scrubbing the corner of his eye. “Also would be nice to wash out my mouth after that.”

Ranmaru snorts, but when Ai sees him, he looks concerned. Camus let's up on Ai’s neck, and Ai wobbles over to the sink to wash his mouth out. He feels hellish, not any better than before, but the smell isn't hurting his head anymore.

“Are you still warm?” Camus asks, and Ai presses a hand to his forehead.

“I am,” Ai admits and turns around to face them. “But I feel  _ much _ better.I just need to sleep this off.”

Camus holds Ai’s head in his hands regardless, cooling him off. Ai’s breath comes out in curling clouds of white, and he nestles closer; it feels nice, and it wasn't just the cold.

“Why didn't you tell anyone you felt sick?” Ranmaru asks.

“It was not nearly bad enough to mention until now.” Ai replies, eyes fluttering shut. “I  _ am _ okay though; whatever made me sick has passed.”

“I didn't know robots got sick.” Ranmaru teases.

“We get  _ bugs _ .”

Ranmaru snorts and rubs his eyes because that was a truly terrible joke. Camus groans, shooting crystalline swirls across Ai’s cheeks scornfully.

“I'm gonna check on Reiji, he was pretty shaken.” Ranmaru says, and Ai pops an eye open to watch him leave suspiciously.

“You're not going to throw up again, are you?” Camus interrupts.

“ _ No _ , Camus, I won't. If I will, I'll warn you.”

They're quiet for a moment, still and calm.  _ Calm before the storm _ , someone thinks, because being sick like  _ this _ made Ai a motor mouth like  _ Aine _ .

“I won't apologize for what I did.” Ai says, firm but quiet, eyes shut once more. “But I  _ will _ apologize for how it made you feel. Upsetting you was not my intention.”

Camus hums, deep and low in his chest. He doesn't let go, nor does the frost change its course.

“We don't do  _ well _ fighting,” Camus finally says, and Ai laughs softly.

“I suppose not.”

That was as much of an apology as Ai was going to get; Camus was young and proud, fluffed up by a strict monarchy. Ai had come to realize how much the title of  _ Duke _ had shaped Camus. They were tied together like that; Camus and dukedom, Ai and servitude.

“It's for the best.”

* * *

Nobody tells the juniors about the incident; there was no reason to. They leave the resort the next morning in peace, and Ai watches the glitter of the sea and wonders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how did u guys like? i rly liked writing this honestly!
> 
> as always u can catch me on [my tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) !!! im always open for a convo and im lov u all


	14. Eurus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eurus, the unlucky wind that brings illness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [before anything I wanted to say I'm running a lil contest thingy on my tumblr for catoptromancy and it'd mean a lot to me if y'all checked it out!](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/post/170539359548/a-challenge-since-i-havent-finished-the-next) its just for fun, submit weird or surreal answers, or really serious ones, or anything at all! it'd just be rly cool to interact with u guys
> 
> surprise monday update~ i was getting antsy and all, so here you guys go

Aine becomes restless after the beach; he shifts from thought to thought like he's lost, unable to do more than continually pester Ai for help in organizing them all. Spending time with people doesn't help.

Reiji and Ranmaru switch lyrics with Ai and Camus, analyzing their duets and correcting where needed. Ai was  _ good _ at this, an expert at weaving  _ lyrics _ together after having to do it by himself for years, and yet Aine kept his focus shot. He kept clinging to lines, weaving  _ stories _ on what the meant and whispering listless things into his head.

Everything burned.

At the very least, Ai had Camus again; Camus, who so kindly placed a hand on the back of Ai’s neck and froze his spine down in silence after a few minutes. The chill felt good, but it still wasn't enough to bring in the quiet it usually did. If only he’d let it spread, spread until every fan and wire was frozen solid, shut down for  _ good _ \--

Ai chokes under his breath, hand flying up to cover his mouth.

“Ai-Ai?” Reiji asks immediately, repositioning himself towards Ai. The twin couches were still their favorite spot to meet, familiar and full of positive memories, so why would Ai think that? “What's wrong?”

Three sets of eyes wait for a response.

“I did a systems check,” is what he says. It flows off his tongue, sickly sweet. “And I need voice box repairs. Doctor Kisaragi is likely free today, and I would rather not let the situation degrade more if I can help it.”

Reiji’s expression shutters at the doctor's name,  _ The cold can burn too, you know, Ai, _ and Camus makes a thoughtful noise.

“You  _ have _ been heating up more often.” he concedes, pressing his palm against Ai’s skin slightly.

_ Thank you _ , Ai thinks even if it rolls wrong in his head,  _ Thank you for feeding into this. _

“Then you should go to the doctor.” Reiji replies. “We won't mind.”

“Yeah, you're no help if you can't keep up, twerp.” Ranmaru shoots back, his usual gruff self, unwilling to give over too much care in public.

“. . .Yeah. If you'll excuse me.” Ai stands and hesitates before bowing. “I'm very sorry.”

_ What are you sorry for? _

_ For everything, God, for everything so far. I can't even do this, even though I was made for this. _

Ai shuffles out before anyone can question him, phone gripped in his hand like a lifeline. He doesn't call Dr. Kisaragi. Instead, Ai goes out into the sunlight and into the tranquil forests that line the production agency, a veil to hide it from prying eyes. It's easy to get lost there, easy to think that if he found a good tree to sit under and shut down, it'd over grow him, knit him into the scenery until nobody could tell what was there anymore.

Ai doesn't bother fighting the thoughts on his own. There was nobody to posture for out here.

When he returns to his dorm, Ai showers and decides to curl up in a sweater and sweatpants. Syo and Natsuki say nothing of the odd outfit change, just eventually recruit Ai into helping with dinner.

In the meantime, Natsuki chatters on about the new movie they were all casted in, Innocent Wind, and how excited he was to start filming.

“We’ll all be together, and Haru-chan will be composing! Isn't it wonderful?” Natsuki coos from where Ai has him stirring a pot.

“I'm excited!” Syo admits, grinning widely. “I can't wait to see Ai’s acting up close.”

“Maybe you could finally learn something from it.” Ai shoots back as he adds spices into the pot. “Now finish chopping or we'll never get this done.”

“ _ Hey _ !”

* * *

The suit they put Ai into admittedly clashes with his. . . everything, if he's honest, and he does  _ try _ to be honest despite himself. But he's not about to argue with the costume department; the sky is gray and heavy, the humidity clinging onto his lashes, and he doesn't want to stay on set longer than necessary over clothes when the storm is so close.

“There’s a high chance of rain.” an assistant tells the director.

“A seventy two percent chance exactly.” Ai butts in, flicking through his phone casually, pretending he hadn't pulled the number straight from his head.

“It'll look great on camera,” the director says, smiling brightly. “We’ll just shuffle some scene orders.”

Haruka is standing off to the side under a roof someone pitched up before filming started. She had a curious way of being, almost anxious on her toes but pleased to be there regardless. Ai couldn't really understand how she could enjoy watching them redo scene after scene, Natsuki and Syo finding more and more unique ways to trip up a shot.

_ She's very cute about it all, _ Aine offers, the most direct thing he's said in a while. Ai manages to keep the flinch down; Aine had melted away for so long, turned into itches in the crevices of Ai’s head, that the sudden tether was jarring.

_ I suppose you could describe it that way. _

Aine snorts, soft and low, and Ai settles under the little roof with Syo, Natsuki, and Haruka. He’s only half listening as they chatter excitedly, flicking through his script.

“The song fits the movie’s atmosphere perfectly!” Natsuki gushes, swaying slowly.

“Thanks to Mikaze’s lyrics,” Haruka adds in a sweet tone.

“Of course the theme song is perfect.” Ai interrupts gently, raising an eyebrow. “Why wouldn't it be?”

“It's really creepy when you channel so much Camus.” Syo says.

“Call it acting prowess.”

Aine laughs, crows out,  _ oh, I love it when you're bold Ai. It looks so good on you _ . Ai shakes his head and returns to his script, eyes roving over and over and over the same line.

_ What? _

“I can't understand it.” Ai says out loud, words for both everyone and himself. “ _ Thank you for being by my side. _ I can't understand wanting someone to be with you.”

Three surprised noises bloom from beside Ai.

“What?” Haruka says, looking a little shaken.

“Being alone is more efficient, after all.” Ai continues, biting the inside of his cheek.

_ Efficient but ineffective _ , Aine says, and that makes a laugh trap itself in Ai’s chest, even as the director calls him up.

_ I've never been alone. I wouldn't know what it's like to want another person next to you. I've always had you, haven't I? _

Aine makes a mixed noise-- distressed, unbelieving,  _ flattered _ .

_ You  _ _ do _ _ want someone to be with you, Ai, someone to hold your hand and help you up _ , Aine insists,  _ Just like everyone else does, you  _ _ want _ _ that. _

_ Sometimes--, _ and Ai’s thoughts pause as he starts his soliloquy for the camera, wandering the echoing halls and windows of the ornate house. It was an empty, dreary place, where the burn of sunlight couldn't purge it of its dark corners and decrepit demons, a place of endless weight.

It seemed like as good a place as any to be disgustingly human.

_Sometimes I wish I were you,_ Ai thinks _, I wish I could be as brave and as emotional. I wish, I wish, because you mean so much, so much more than I do. It would be wonderful to have so many parts of myself matter._

“Cut! Good job Mikaze, we'll take a break now.” the director says, and Ai nods automatically.

Ai starts to wander into the depths of the house, further from the crew, into the silence.

_ To be more than a voicebox _ , Ai thinks as his fingertips brush the front of his throat.  _ Than a face, than a head full of words for people to enjoy, than a replacement. _

Ai reached an inner staircase with a rolled carpet sitting desolately to one side. He couldn't hear anyone anymore, only the rattling of the AC unit and the purr of drizzling rain. His eyes find a window to peer out of, the dance of drops on the glass in their pointless race to the bottom almost hypnotic.

“Maybe I am  _ envious _ .” Ai whispers, fans whirring erratically. “I am envious of your right to exist so  _ whole _ , so unfiltered, so proud, so-- so  _ emotional _ .”

_ Ai--, _ Aine startles,  _ Oh Ai,  _ _ Ai _ _ , who's stopping you? You're whole, you're good. _

Aine sends an idea-- the idea of a hand on Ai’s cheek, soft and warm.

“But I am not  _ free _ .” Ai says, somehow quieter. “There's only one way for me to be free, Aine, and I'll never do it. I'll never do it.”

The world is quiet except for the pattering of rain. Ai feels hot as he walks back through the looming house, out onto the paved porch near the garden where most of the filming of the day is happening. The water is cool, blessedly cool, and Ai feels horrific.

“Thank you for being by my side,” Ai says, the words clunky and sharp edged. “Thank you for being by my side! Thank you for being--”

_ Thank you for being by my side, _ Aine murmurs. It sounds hoarse, like it hurts him.  _ Thank you for being by my side Ai. I didn't deserve you but you're stuck with me and it's been five years and I still don't know what I'm doing, thank you, thank you, I'm sorry. _

The world burns. Honesty burns more.

Ai doesn't feel when he falls, shutting down dangerously fast, and he has the brief flickering hope that he won't wake up after that; the rain will tap through the silicone of his skin, will seep into gears and wires and will shoot his voice to absolute shit before anyone can stop it.

* * *

“Something’s off.” Reiji says, looking out of the studio’s windows. Rain pelts the glass, sky eerie and dark.

“The rain's getting to you?” Ranmaru asks from where he's flicking through a magazine.

“It's just weather.” Camus butts in.

Reiji watches the droplets slide down, shaking and flinging themselves off the window with each hard hit of wind. Something felt  _ foreboding _ , like Reiji was overlooking something and his head was trying to piece together what’s wrong with only splinters of the truth.

“Well,” he says finally, finding a seat. “I guess I'm just missing Ai-Ai!”

Ranmaru snorts, half mocking and half sympathetic. He'd watched Reiji fail time and time again to get over himself and talk to Ai, but it was like watching a car accident from a corner; horrific but hard to look away from.

“He’ll be back with us eventually.” Camus says, unamused.

“Of course!”

* * *

Instead, Ai wakes up slowly on a bed, not irreparably broken but just slightly damp.

_ What happened?, _ Aine mutters, on edge and shrill.  _ Ai? _

Ai hums, the noise notably metallic.

“There's room for improvement.” Ai says instead of answering, sitting up.

“Mikaze!”

“Ai?”

Ai looks over. Haruka, Natsuki, and Syo stand together, watching Ai. Ai can hear his own whirring fans, strong and quick.

_ They heard. _

“I'm an idol android.” Ai says succinctly, eyelashes fluttering as his body checks itself diligently.

“Wait, wait, an idol android?” Syo sputters out. “Who would make that?!”

“Shining Saotome.”

“. . . Of course.” Natsuki says, sounding slightly disappointed.

“The rain is messing with my systems, and the added effort of functioning is draining my battery.” Ai says, smooth and sweet.

_ Stop it, _ Aine whispers, voice frenzied.  _ Stop it, stop it! _

“We’ll help!” Syo says immediately, jumping closer to Ai.

“I'd rather you not.” Ai replies simply, icy and stiff. “You’d all be a nuisance. Now, let me be. I need to make sure everything is checked.”

_ Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. _

_ No. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all are so smart, im sure you guys can tell what i want to do already. I cut off there tho bc it was gonna get way too long if i continued
> 
> my [tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) as always, and [im just gonna pander my lil challenge thing one more time](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/post/170539359548/a-challenge-since-i-havent-finished-the-next)


	15. Baited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As if on the precipice of a cliff, the world holds a baited breath, ready to watch a pirouette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hap thurs yall
> 
> first and foremost id like to thank [ethras](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethras) for helping me give dr kisaragi like a proper name! truly a darling for putting up w me. but yeah we made that name up just fyi
> 
> id also like to thank you all for your patience with me! I think this chapter came out particularly good, so i hope you guys love it as much as i loved writing it!

Ai knew that arguing with Aine would just cause more shutdowns. It was always like that when it got really bad, although Ai could confidently say the arguments had never been started by him until this one. But Aine never knew when to let dead dogs lies, never knew what giving space was, and it's like _pressure_ ; pressure building, building until Ai feels explosive after every one of Aine’s words, like if he doesn't tear his silicone skin off he's going to burn alive in the hellish maze of thoughts.

Ai doesn't _want_ to talk to anyone. Part of it is irritation; Syo, Natsuki, and Haruka hover, and every time he shuts his eyes they're on him like damned vultures looking to pick at his synthetic bones. The other part is that he fears that if he opens his mouth for anything other than lines, his tongue will spill over with words meant for Aine. Ai has never felt so-- so out of _control_. Not even when Aine tries to take control from him.

Everything had its place in his life, _everything_ . Nothing went unaccounted for and Ai wouldn't let a single thing slip him by, and it _worked_ . At least, it _had_ worked for five years, until now. Every single shut down leaves Ai’s head dizzy with heat, and he feels like a black desert road, wafting with ever-shifting oily mirages.

The trio whisper about his eerie silence. Ai pretends not to hear it out of courtesy. They had never learned _subtlety_ it seemed.

Ai can't help but want _silence_ ; thunderous, deafening, _silence_. Just nothing but the peace of stillness and a quiet night, swathes of darkness only cut through by the pinpricks of stars or the sharp cut of the moon, no breeze on the ocean, nothing but Ai, the sky, and the weight of the night on his chest.

Maybe he needs a vacation.

The idea cements itself into Ai’s head, sidelined only by having to perform or act human, and it slowly unfurls like a flower in the sunlight after a storm.

_I want to see the ocean._

Ai blinks slowly.

 _The ocean. I can't quite remember what it looks like without the fear. I want to_ _see_ _it._

Ai clings to the desire, a floating shard of debris under swathes of molten blue crystal.

* * *

 

Doctor Kisaragi is a little stressed as he works on better waterproofing for Ai’s internal systems. He has Ai sitting on a lab table, working on the depths of Ai’s right thigh after having started on his head and worked his way down.

He is being _very_ efficient in his worry, as Ai knew he would be.

“I should've worked harder on your waterproofing.” he's saying, shaking his head in disbelief. “Instead I put it off until you were in some danger. Ridiculous.”

“I was in no danger doctor, I assure you. Don't fix what isn't broken, is that not how it goes?” Ai soothes, holding a screwdriver loosely in his fist.

“Don't fix what ain't broke.” the doctor confirms, sighing.

They're silent, and when Ai decides to speak, the doctor has moved on to his other thigh.

“Doctor.” Ai says to catch his attention. Dr. Kisaragi hums to show Ai’s got it. “Doctor, I want to go on vacation. To the beach.”

Dr. Kisaragi flinches, thankfully not knicking anything in Ai in the process. He flicks his eyes up, down, back up. Ai watches patiently, chin sloped down to watch the doctor's progress. He slowly goes back to work, finishing his waterproofing process, before putting his tools to the side.

“To the beach.” Dr. Kisaragi repeats.

“Yes.”

He leans back in his rolling chair, chewing his lip.

“The waterproofing is more than enough for me to indulge myself. I would know, I ran the numbers.” Ai replies easily, going to work on sealing the panel seamlessly and melting the silicone back into impeccable smoothness.

“. . . I suppose so.” the doctor consents, crossing his arms. “Do you _really_ want to go to the beach, though?”

“I do.” Ai says, biting his cheek. “But I need your help. Shining Saotome rarely heeds my requests, but he has a habit of taking all your suggestions to heart.”

“That he does.” Dr. Kisaragi says, scrubbing a hand across his jaw. “Okay. I'll get you that beach vacation, on one condition.”

Ai tilts his head to the side, looking at the doctor curiously.

“What condition?”

“You have to go with your band. I don't want you going alone.”

Ai can understand that, but the idea sticks like humidity to his frazzled brain, and he _wants_ to protest. _But_. Ai feels like if he protests, he won't get what he wants; the doctor would let him rot in stress, rust his mind away because of a little fight.

_He wouldn't!_

“Okay.” is what come out of Ai’s mouth instead.

The doctor sighs and pats his lap. Ai lifts his leg and watches as he opens up his shin, going back to work. Ai closes his eyes.

“I want to remember it.” he says, quiet. Dr. Kisaragi doesn’t seem to hear. Ai wonders if he said it at all.

* * *

 

Doctor Heiji Kisaragi watches Shining Saotome with no small amount of distaste. Something had been wrong with Ai lately, he could tell; Ai looked consistently dead-eyed and it was starting to get under his skin. Heiji didn't know why exactly, since Ai had never been an open child, not since he was first awakened and not now. Heiji had _instincts_ though, and despite having not used them very _well_ since Aine’s childhood he was feeling them _now_.

His gut said _work_.

“Shining, you need to give Ai a week.” Heiji says with no pretense, casually leaning his head on his fist.

“Doctor, showbiz is complicated.” Shining says condescendingly and Heiji waves him off.

“I’ve had two of my own children in this profession, Saotome. I'm not an idiot. You've got too many people owing you favors for it to be impossible, let alone difficult.”

“You're rather fond of Ai,” Saotome says casually after a beat of silence, and Heiji barks out a laugh.

“He's my kid, Saotome. I'd sink this school down if it made things better for him; you have enough unauthorized tech in here and threats on me to do it.” and Heiji smiles, not quite sharp. “I refuse to make the same mistake twice with you, Saotome. If you lose me, stolen tech will only do you so well.”

“None of it is _stolen_ , doctor.”

“But all the patenting and work has my name signed on it, and courts tend to side with the legal creators. Put a child between that, wax a story of threats, and you’ve got a big problem on your head Saotome.”

Heiji straightens up, leans back. He's ready to win the fight, _was_ ready since Ai asked him oh-so-quietly to end the battle for him. He waves his hand around casually.

“Listen. You're better off giving Ai the time off. You can't risk losing us both. And we'll both lose Ai if we keep this little cat and mouse game up.”

Shining Saotome hated losing at his own games more than anything in the world, Heiji knew, but Heiji had lost enough. He stands, pushing his glasses up his nose as he turns his back to Shining and makes his way to the door.

“Oh, and just make it a whole band vacation. It'll look better that way.” he throws over his shoulder as he steps out.

Heiji Kisaragi would be damned if he let's Ai go down the same spiral that Aine did. He didn't have to lose another child.

* * *

 

Shining Saotome sends Quartet Night off for a week to one of the agencies beachfront houses. Ai packs diligently, silent and calm, feeling like the eye of a storm. _He got what he wanted_.

“Have fun on your trip!” Natsuki says cheerfully, waving a tupperware container full of cookies at Ai. “I made some cookies for you all~!”

Syo blanches when Ai readily takes the container, but Ai knows better than to feed them to anyone with a _real_ stomach. He’ll throw them out as soon as social etiquette allowed it.

“Ah, Ai, are you sure you’ll be okay though?” Syo asks worriedly. “I mean, if you're gonna get into the water. . .”

“Don't worry.” Ai says, face softening. “The doctor and I worked _very_ hard on more effective waterproofing and heat regulation. I'll be okay.”

Syo looks unconvinced, eyebrows knitting together. Ai turns to fully face him, placing the container on his suitcase so that his hands are free. He gently settles them on Syo’s shoulders, squeezing a little.

“I can take care of myself, and the rest of Quartet Night will be there if I can't.” he reassures, voice soothing and low. “I suppose though you should be worried about yourself; I won't be able to monitor your heart, so you have to be more vigilant.”

“I _am_ vigilant!”

“Of course.”

The sarcasm in Ai’s voice pulls a laugh out of Natsuki and an indignant huff from Syo, but there's a release of tension from them both. Natsuki hugs Ai and Syo suddenly, cooing about how much he was going to miss Ai; Syo hesitantly wraps his arms around Ai’s middle, looking flustered.

Ai feels a flicker of heat in his chest, like a lit candle wick, and it feels. . . good. It's not a burning heat, not like he's _in_ the fire but just _near_ it. Keeping one hand on Syo, Ai drapes the other arm around Natsuki’s lower back in return.

“Come back in one piece, alright?” Syo says gruffly when they finally break apart. “We still need to beat you guys.”

Ai can't help but smile a little.

“If you say so.”

* * *

 

Shining rents them a car, because Reiji’s buggy won't cut it with all their luggage, and Ai lands in the back seat with Ranmaru. It had been a compromise of epic proportions-- Reiji was _definitely_ driving to his heart's content, and Ai was _definitely_ the most apt navigator, but Ranmaru and Camus were _definitely_ _not_ sitting together. Ai sat himself behind Reiji, and fluttered his lashes at Ranmaru so that he wouldn't fight with Camus over the passenger's seat.

“You'll have more space to sleep back here anyway.” Ai bargains, before dropping his voice. “And I don't think you'll enjoy spending the next few hours next to Reiji. You'll end up fighting with him and we don't need to swerve.”

Ranmaru grumbled fiercely  but gave in eventually, sprawling to the point that he took up the middle seat, too, with a leg. Ai didn't mind much, just slipped off his shoes (and they _were_ shoes, _not_ boots; despite his love for them, they were hardly beach appropriate wear) and draped his own legs over Ranmaru’s delicately when he started to feel uncomfortable. Ranmaru sleeps pretty well, only waking up to watch Ai shift and silently grab Ai’s ankle and reposition him as needed. He forgets to let go, fingers loose and warm, and Ai doesn't bother waking him up over it.

Camus and Ai talk across from each other, low and pleasant. Reiji has the radio on at a decent volume and is singing along, going quiet when Ai touches his shoulder to rattle off directions. It’s peaceful, until the radio decides to play games with the four of them.

The radio host announces their next song, and the car goes still as _The Dice Are Cast_ blasts through the sound system. Ai doesn't think he’ll ever get used to hearing their music over the radio-- not singles, not duets, and maybe never all four of them harmonizing.

“Ready!” Reiji suddenly scream-sings, shaking Ranmaru awake.

“Set,” Ai whispers and Ranmaru clumsily yells “ _Set_!” in confusion.

“Go!”

“With you.” and Camus even does the little pistol choreography, to add to the _drama_ of it all.

Ranmaru is awake enough to hit his next cue, side eyeing Ai with a playful glow as he sings, “Ah shake, ah shake”! Ai rises to the unspoken challenge.

They harmonize perfectly as they sing, “Call us, honey! Quartet Night!”, and the car feels _different_ now. They're singing together smoothly, voices blending and bouncing off the sides of the car. Camus is failing to be stoic, hands moving along like he's conducting the music. Reiji is still driving diligently but his entire body wiggles and vibrates with the desire to dance along, happy and bright. Ranmaru has his head thrown back, like he doesn't want anyone to catch him with a smile. Ai is moving, as much as he can at least, to the choreography of the song.

“Breaking through!” and he leans over and into Ranmaru’s space, making him look over, and then they're singing to each other, and Ranmaru catches one of Ai’s hands, and Ai is giggling through his words, and that wick lights again in his chest, stronger than before. The song ends and Ai falls back into his seat, laughing brightly, _loudly_.

“We fuckin’ rock.” Ranmaru says, only half-teasing.

Reiji whoops and grins like an idiot, and while they missed a turn in their impromptu karaoke, Ai easily redirects. The radio moves on to another song of less interest, and Ai catches Camus’s eye. They smile at each other, voiceless but communicating, and life is good.

When they start winding up next to coast, anxiety tickles Ai’s skin with pins and needles. Reiji switches stations, trying to catch one that isn't mid-interview or on commercial break, and he scores _hard_.

They're playing _Quartet Night_ on the station he stops on.

The song is an immediate balm, like someone wrapped Ai in a blanket and pulled him away from the oceans edge. It’s _their_ song. _Their first song_ . Ai sings unprompted, jostling Ranmaru a little to wake him up again, a little desperate. His head lolls to the side, pretty much fully alert, and a smile spreads across his mouth. He sings along, _I want to snatch you away_ , and Ai curls his fingers into his t-shirt and closes his eyes and sings. He sings to avoid the water, to feel how good they are all together, a true quartet, and how every quiver of his voice is picked up by someone else and vice versa.

Ranmaru drags his thumb across Ai’s ankle-- Ai resists twitching, he completely forgot about that-- and Ai opens his eyes to look at him. Ranmaru still has his lazy sprawl in tact, head bouncing gently with every jolt of the car, but his eyes are sharp on Ai. It’s a _lot_ of attention all of a sudden, _right_ _on_ _Ai_ , and its not like the focus of an audience watching him perform; Ranmaru knows him, knows how to dig into Ai’s movements and tics and twitches.

Ai bites the inside of his cheek and almost misses his next cue, flushing a little. As if noticing how riled Ai is getting, Ranmaru drags his thumb over Ai’s skin soothingly.

“I love hearing our music on the radio.” Reiji says when it's over, turning the music down. “I love our songs!”

“They’re very good songs.” Camus says pridefully.

Ai is quiet, nuzzling the fabric of the seat and curling up comfortably, but he's so happy that it shows through his face.

“They're _our_ songs. Of course they're great.” Ranmaru pitches in, and Ai wishes for a sweater to bury his face into.

Ai’s already made great things with these three. He can make the beach something great with them too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u guys r so smart ;)
> 
> come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) so that u guys can yell at me some


	16. Sea Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ocean looks almost glass-like, shattering with each wave and reforming in its wake. Underneath the water lies the truth of the matter, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hap thurs y'all!!! this has got to be my favorite chapter so far, because the final scene in it is the entire reason i started writing this. i was day dreaming when a scene came to me, and i asked myself, how did we get there? and catoptromancy was the answer! anyway im real proud of this ch so please enjoy!
> 
> WARNING: Suicidal thoughts and a suicide attempt ahead, not very graphic but still. Stay safe cuties!

The beach house is  _ huge _ . It's three stories of luxury and Ai can't even begin to imagine that they'll use half of the rooms in the week that they’re there. Honestly, Ai should have expected the over the top opulence but then again, he hadn't been thinking straight lately.

The first floor is pretty typical at first-- a big living room with a fireplace, and countless gadgets and systems piled high in two cabinets next to a giant LED TV. The semi circle of deep red couches in front of the TV set up is an easy place to drop all their bags for further searching. Reiji immediately finds the kitchen, digging through the gleaming silver fridge and cherry wood cabinets and drawers.

“They stocked some food for us already, but definitely nothing fun to make.” Reiji says, and that draws Ranmaru in. They start talking about what there is and isn't, building a list, and Ai and Camus wander off together.

There's a deck facing the beachfront, donning two glass tables with orange beach umbrellas sticking out of them twisted shut. Ai watches the shore.

“You stand with such unholy stillness.” Camus says, casually unwinding an umbrella and opening it.

“. . .I can lock my joints. It’s a talent, I suppose.” Ai murmurs. “Are you going to settle here?”

“Mm. No. Just taking a look around.” he replies, trotting over to the other side of the porch, stopping suddenly. “. . . There's a  _ very _ big hot tub next to the stairs to the beach. How hellish.”

Ai can't help but snort, waving Camus back inside with him. It was easy to step through the threshold, to shut the door to mute the world outside. They find a movie room, a  _ very _ large indoor pool with windows facing the town, a library & study, an indoor gym, and a music room that sat with a shiny pianoforte.

Ai drifts over to the piano with a small smile, lifting the key covers to tap out a few notes. It was a little off key but nothing Ai couldn't fix in a little while. He taps out the first few notes of  _ Winter Blossom _ , then  _ Zettai Reido Emotion _ , and Camus’s lips twitch up a little.

“We can work on songs a little while we’re here.” Ai says. “Maybe you'll get those  _ creative juices _ flowing.”

“Reiji needs to stop teaching you those ridiculous phrases of his.” Camus complains, but he doesn't say no.

“Let's get back to them.”

They return to the kitchen, and Camus makes a disbelieving noise when he sees Ranmaru and Reiji cooking peacefully. Well--  _ semi-peacefully _ ; Reiji looked like he wanted to binge-eat everything they were making while Ranmaru seemed pretty relaxed. Reiji’s head shoots up when they walk in.

“Hey! We’re making something here to eat ‘cause I was feeling hungry, but we’re thinking of going to buy some stuff and get a look at the town soon. What do you guys think?”

Ai smiles a little, nodding. Reiji looks lost at his expression.

“Then I'm going to start getting settled in.” Camus says.

Reiji bounces up like a shot of pure energy.

“Yes! Good idea, let's do that.” Reiji chatters, going straight out to the couches to grab his stuff. With an eye roll, Camus follows suit.

“There's bottled water in the fridge because Shining Saotome won't be outdone.” Ranmaru says after a moment of Ai shifting around restlessly. “If you need an excuse to stay.”

“. . . Yeah. I just--” Ai huffs out a breath, opening the fridge and fishing out a bottle. “--I’ve never really vacationed. I don't really know if I  _ can _ vacation?”

“You'll learn.” Ranmaru shoots back.

“I suppose.”

Ai clicks the bottle tap on and off, thoughtfully quiet.

“What did you say to Reiji?” Ai asks suddenly, sipping his water.

“Nothing much, honestly. He's just a bit more of an idiot than usual.”

“You're calm.”

“The beach is nice. It holds pleasant memories.”

Ai sighs, putting the bottle on the counter and shuffling over towards Ranmaru. Ai carefully rests his cheek on the back of Ranmaru’s shoulder, watching him flick between stirring a pot and sauteing vegetables. It's just quiet enough that Ai closes his eyes, fingers curling and uncurling anxiously. That untapped anxiety shivers through his system, slowly draining through his body. Ai doesn't notice Ranmaru slowly wrapping up, putting the pot on simmer and making sure everything was off and safe.

Ranmaru turns around and startles Ai, hands drifting to Ai’s arms kindly. Ai just drops his head onto Ranmaru’s shoulder again.

“The ocean is  _ very _ big.” Ai whispers. “A very big body of  _ water _ .”

“Guess that's not very cool for robots huh?” Ranmaru says gruffly. “Water and robots and all.”

“I’m practically entirely waterproof,  _ nothing _ is going to happen to me.” Ai tries. The words feel clumsy on his tongue. 

“Nothing is going to happen to you.” Ranmaru assures, and the words don't seem so wrong in his mouth. They sound  _ sure _ .

“Nothing is going to happen to me.”

It feels like garbled shards of glass between his cheeks, but it’s okay in the end; Ranmaru holds enough confidence for the both of them, and it'll be enough.

* * *

It’s not enough.

* * *

The sky is almost clear the next day, only marred by a few fluffy white clouds that barely blot out the sun. The house porch leads off a small cliff and to the beach. Ai and Reiji set up a spot on the beach for them; Reiji is quiet as they get two umbrellas set up and four plastic chairs they dug up from a storage room.

“It's a lovely day.” Ai offers while they set up, trying to break Reiji’s silence.

“It is.”

Ai purses his lips.

“What is it?”

“Hm? Nothing.”

Ai grinds his teeth a little. They continue in silence.

“I don't know what Ranmaru said to you, but ignoring me isn't going to make things better.” Ai says as he finishes his part of the set up. “What happens between you two is none of my business, but I’d eventually like a straight answer as to why you keep ignoring me.”

_ Say it, _ Ai thinks,  _ Say it, say it, say you want Aine, say you don't want me here. _

Reiji sputters.

“I-- I’m not ignoring you, really!”

_ Coward. You're a coward. You've always been a selfish coward. Just say something, anything,  _ _ please _ _. _

Ai walks back to the house, skin prickling with-- with  _ anger _ , old anger and new anger, mixed with a bubbling feeling of abandonment, and he hates it. He walks away because he’s not sure what he’d say if he stayed. He walks away and it’s easier than Ai likes to think on.

“I might be heartless but he is spineless.” Ai murmurs somewhere between the sun and sand and surf, feeling his head stir.

_ He doesn't know how to be genuine sometimes _ , Aine says, quiet.

“Maybe never.”

_ He’s awful at expressing himself outside of music, he's two faced. _

“Maybe not two faced really, just unsure.” Ai corrects as he reaches the porch, cleaning off his feet roughly. “He’s got no idea what to think of me half of the time.”

_ The other half, he's lauding you though, _ Aine points out as Ai steps inside and trots up the stairs.  _ He cares _ .

“He's a dickhead.”

_ You all are. _

Ai scowls as he enters his designated room, closing and locking the door behind himself. There was a set of French doors that lead to a balcony facing the town, and Ai goes up to the glass. Pale tropical houses dotted the streets, people walking lazily in the way only sleepy towns can make you wander, and Ai wishes he could feel like what the streets look like.

“I’m not cutting anyone off after promising to help them.”

_ He doesn't know he's hurting you, Ai. _

Ai pauses, closing his eyes tight before shaking it off.

“ _ I am not hurt _ . If I were hurt, I wouldn't be functional.” Ai says, venom dripping from every sharp syllable. “And if I am not  _ functional _ , I get  _ decommissioned _ . And it is every sentient thing’s goal to not have the equivalent of  _ death _ , so  _ no _ , I am not  _ hurt _ .”

_ You say that shit as if it's true! Newsflash, it's not! _

“You're just mad I made a choice.” Ai murmurs suddenly, watching his own shocked reflection. “You're mad I came here.”

_. . . I mean, like, maybe a little _ , Aine admits,  _ But not because you chose! Because I know you're making things worse. _

“I--”

Someone knocks on Ai’s door, and Ai jumps, feeling hot distress pour down his spine.

“Yes?” he calls out, walking towards the door slowly.

“Ai, are you going to the beach soon?” Camus asks through the door. “I will only go down for a little, but I'd rather go down with you.”

Ai had Camus. Camus and his cool, level headed nature. He had Ranmaru, too. It didn’t make sense that Reiji’s rejection burned so much. Ai unlocks the door after a beat, fluttering his lashes at Camus.

“Let's go, Ranmaru should be back from his run soon, so we'll just bring the rest of the items down.”

* * *

Camus stays under the umbrella, legs crossed and sunglasses perched precariously on his nose, one hand dipped in the cooler to keep the temperature low. Ranmaru mocks him a little, but he readily stops when Reiji finds something more interesting for him to focus on: a cliff overlooking a deeper patch of water.

Ranmaru throws Reiji off of it, because he's an asshole, and Ai watches with jubilant satisfaction from his seat next to Camus. Reiji sputters as he floats up and treads water, and sputters even  _ more _ when Ranmaru dives next to him and Reiji chokes on the concurrent wave.

“Reiji avoids me.” Ai says, unprompted, as Ranmaru and Reiji start swimming around. He grabs a volleyball stowed away in a plastic bag-- Ranmaru bought it on his run, because he liked having an excuse to hit people-- and waves it around. “He won't say why, and Ranmaru keeps having these private conversations that make it better and worse.”

“Hm.” Camus grunts out, watching as Ai stands and punts the volleyball right at Reiji. It hits dead center of Reiji’s back and Ai settles as Ranmaru laughs. “Reiji has a habit of avoiding his problems,  _ if _ that's what it is. I don't know why he’d have a problem with you though.”

Ai is quiet, plucking at the seams of his blue tank top with barely restrained anxiety.

“Camus,” Ai murmurs, eyes set on the sea. “What if I told you I had another secret?”

“. . . I'd want to know it,” Camus admits slowly. “But I think we are  _ all _ entitled to keep some secrets, as long as no one is being hurt.”

“And if I told you that I feel like I can't tell anyone about it?”

“Then I would remind you, you have me as a sentinel at your side.”

Ai blinks as Camus rests a cool hand on his shoulder, grip strong. Ai looks up, and Camus pulls his sunglasses up to the top of his head to look properly. The whining noise of Reiji losing the ball, of Ranmaru swimming with strong strokes to catch it, of the surf itself, slows to a crawl.

“There is little you could tell me that I wouldn't accept, Ai.”

Ai swallows. The words are hot, molten lava pouring from his throat, burning his nose.

_ For months I've been hiding that I'm not an individual, that I'm a caricature, that I'm constantly on the brink of death, and I could tell you, I could tell and maybe you'd stay here. _

_ Or you could leave because I am an inhuman act, a joke made at the cost of a proper grave and it's so hard to forgive someone who's done nothing but lie to you from the start. _

_ Anything could happen. _

“Okay.” is all Ai says, voice weak. He pulls away, stands up; Camus lets him, face shaded with concern.

“Ai--”

“I’m going to, to jump the cliff. Looks like fun.” Ai interrupts, slipping off his sandals. “I'll be right back.”

Ai starts the trek over, and midway through he hears pounding footsteps. Ranmaru casually slams into Ai’s side, soaking wet and shaking his hair out like a dog. Ai laughs quietly, wiping his face and glad for the distraction.

“Stop that!” Ai says, shoving Ranmaru a little.

“Make me.”

Ai rolls his eyes and ducks away from Ranmaru, speeding up and flipping him off. Ranmaru catches right back up but stays behind Ai, grabbing his biceps and shaking him back and forth annoyingly.

“Planning on jumping?”

“What else could I be doing?”

“Maybe you'll spirit yourself away to escape Reiji’s awkwardness.” Ranmaru offers and Ai barks out a laugh, covering his mouth in surprise.

“Get lost.” Ai teases, leaning his head back against Ranmaru’s shoulder and trusting him to guide Ai well. Ai’s ponytail, holding  _ all _ his hair for once, bumps against his shoulder annoyingly.

“Gotta watch over you if you're gonna jump, kiddo.”

“You're only two years and seven months older than me.” Ai argues, trying to wiggle out of Ranmaru’s grip unsuccessfully. He lifts Ai up slightly when the ground changes from sand to sea-slick stone. “Really, I'm the mental adult here.”

“Ai, you weigh a lot.” Ranmaru interrupts, brows knit together in a frown. “You sure you won't just sink?”

“I don’t know. In theory I should be able to float, but I've never tried it.” Ai admits, finally looking forward and escaping the bracket of Ranmaru’s hands. “No time like the present to try, though.”

“You're an idiot.”

“I learned from the best.”

Ai side eyes Ranmaru for good measure, and Ranmaru snorts but his expression doesn't quite clear. The wind buffets skin like needles of salty, whipping Ai’s hair and drying the silver strands of Ranmaru’s. Ai feels a phantom tug on his hand.

_ Don't. _

“So you should break the water with your hands or feet so that you don't flop,” Ranmaru says, informative. “Take a running start so that you land somewhere you're not gonna hit the bottom of, so you don't get hurt. When you’re in, follow the light back up-- you can swim, right?”

“I can, probably.”

“ _ Probably _ ?”

“I can also probably do a backflip.”

“That’s not reassuring!”

Ai stretches his arms up, braces his knees, and effectively does a backflip without slipping. Ranmaru glares at him.

“So I can probably also swim since I know it the same way.”

“You're awful.”

Ai laughs and walks over again, shoving Ranmaru’s shoulder a little.

“Give me a practical presentation, I'd feel better.”

“You just want me to stop harping on you.” Ranmaru accuses but he takes a few steps back anyway. Ai sits on the edge of the cliff, off to the side to make room.

Everything goes pretty well, and when Ranmaru hits the water it parts smoothly. Ai can't remember if the water had broken like that for the car, just remembers the deafening sound of metal crushing and glass shattering into intricate spider webs. He wonders if his own plating would crumple like paper too under the water, reducing him down to nothing but shrapnel and silicone.

Ranmaru swims off to the side and Ai gets up, getting ready to make a run for it.

“I could only hope.”

_ Ai, don't do it. _

“Who’s going to stop me, Aine?”

_ You'll get hurt. _

“And?”

_ Ai, what if you drown? _

“What if that's what I want?”

_ No! _

Now that he said it, it felt more real; Ai could finally put a label to the feeling growing from his limbs into his heart. Whatever heart Ai has is corroded, infected, a melting decoy that only looks human from afar like the rest of him.

“Maybe I'll sink like a stone.” Ai says, and suddenly the phrase cycles in his head  _ ad nauseam, maybe I’ll sink like a stone, maybe I’ll sink like a stone, maybe I’ll sink like a stone _ .

It pushes him off the edge of cliff and into the air, into the blending blue of the sky and the sea, the dark scraggly line of the horizon like a wave goodbye from solid land. Ai can remember  _ this _ , at least; he can remember what it felt like to lose his sense of gravity, albeit with a seat to fall back into. Weightlessness is almost fun, even in his crumpling thoughts.

He cuts through the water, brilliant and surprisingly cool-- no, it was that Ai had just been unnervingly hot, not that the water was cold. The ocean wraps its fingers around him, palm pressed to the expanse of his back, and it's like every nightmare he's ever had come to life. The currents will pull him too, pull him to the muck of sand and grime and plants and time will let it all crawl into him and rip the wires apart until what man has made is no more.

_ Swim, swim, swim you fuck, Ai, Ai, swim! This isn't the answer, Ai, please,  _ **_Ai_ ** _! Don't make my mistake! _

Ai loses his breath in a hysterical laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no idea what to say lol, i just feel like this is my fav chapter so far
> 
> come yell at me on [tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) for doing this to ai like the cruel god i am
> 
> [maru made an art based on the last scene in the chapter <3!!!](https://twitter.com/BeedrilBaseball/status/972251135426813952)


	17. Stained Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life turned out to be made from broken shards of glass that never quite fit together. Someone needed to place it together, pour lacquer between each sharp edge, inevitably missing a few jutting, glittering blades.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haP THURS YALL IM EXCITE ABOUT THIS CHUNK OF CAT :D
> 
> warning: brief description of self harm; starts at "Another familiar feeling" and ends at "wheezing and apologizing."
> 
> warning pt 2: the brief, non-descriptive return of throwin up

_Everything_ had been a mistake since Ai had woken up.

He knew the taste of blood without ever having seen a drop. Aine had been a fighting kind of kid his whole life, and the memory of how hits felt and where they hurt the most were deeply ingrained.

Another familiar feeling was that of sharp blades, tugging and ripping skin for the pleasure of hurting; that was more like a repressed memory that rose like putrid bile while Ai cooked. He was careful to never catch skin when the disgusting itch bit the back of his head, Aine wheezing and apologizing.

Life had always felt uncomfortable on Ai, like a shirt that didn’t quite _fit_ but you could never figure out what, exactly, was _wrong_ with it. Aine’s urges for death seemed almost right, at times, for Ai; he didn’t really _belong_ around here, around creatures that breathed in earnest and loved like blazes and hated like storms. Ai could only make facsimiles of that, masks to wear at will and not because he cared, so how could he count himself as one of them? He was _other_ , and the only things tying him to human reality was his purpose and Aine.

Ai had fought those urges for five years though, diligent in his quest to not disappoint. It was hardest when he was younger, Aine still angry at the world and insatiable; he saw _everything_ as an escape, and Ai has never been able to forget the images burned into his eyes when Aine was overzealous and shaking.

He had been ten and awake for the first time, tasting smokey water, and he hadn’t done much more than answer basic questions the doctor asks. Aine is an isolationist the entire time; he hisses and growls like a trapped animal and Ai is afraid to prod, still unsure of how best to approach him. The doctor had said to do what seemed best to get Aine to wake up. Ai didn't know _what_ to do when all he got from Aine was a violent urge to fling himself into the ocean and never surface.

He learns the piano first, and that's the easiest it gets. It’s a pleasant experience when he looks back on it, because Aine had also liked playing piano; he was quiet then, still _was_ when Ai sat at the bench. He was _still_ like that.

It was hardest when Ai was learning the in’s and out’s of the idol industry. When Ai slept, Aine became a force to be reckoned with; he prowled Ai’s dreams, telling him that he didn't want to be an idol, that there was no reason to do all of this for a hellscape of a job.

“I can't want things. I just have to do it.” Ai would say every time, and every time Aine would pitch a fit until Ai woke up again.

Ai stopped sleeping after a while. Threw himself into perfecting his idol work, trying to show that he _could_ do it. Really, Ai was running away from someone whose judgment he could never escape. In the end, Ai had learned to bear the fire rather than postpone it, and by 15 he could curate Aine’s manic highs and depressive lows with a gentle hand.

Things had _eased_ that way. Aine stopped being an impossible urge and had instead become a running dialogue track for Ai’s head, someone to speak with as opposed to hiding from. Ai almost thought of them two as being. . . _close_.

There was so _much_ in Aine, a tangled web of complications that Ai had been privy to for years, and _that_ made them close. Ai just sat and picked it apart sometimes. He’d curl up in bed and “nap”; those were their best moments, caught between quiet pulls, where Ai half dozes, half dreams, and Aine lays his wounds and grievances out like a show, and they work on them together. Ai hadn't done that in a while, a few months of just letting things build up because there was no time to breathe let alone _nap_.

Maybe Aine hadn't chilled out over time, though. Maybe Ai had started taking the threads of Aine’s worries, insecurities, hatred, and wove them into himself so that Aine could be free. Maybe everything Ai was is only residue and shadows of Aine’s worst parts.

That was, on some level, what Ai was meant to do.

Under the water, light looked like broken fractals. Ai maps them mathematically, predicts how the next wave will reshape the sun because nothing was ever _truly_ random here.

And if nothing is truly random, then it’s not random that this is how Ai would die; in front of an audience, the opposite to Aine’s own almost-death.

* * *

 

Ranmaru drags Ai up through the water before Ai can really, fully lose consciousness. He holds Ai up once they break the surface, and Ai coughs up water with half hysterical laughs.

“Pedal, like you're riding a bike,” Ranmaru says with a touch of urgency, so Ai follows without thinking. “Are you okay?”

“I'm good,” Ai coughs out, arms wrapping around Ranmaru’s shoulders, a parallel to the arms around his back. “I'm good, anything I swallowed is already out, I'm good.”

“Christ, you scared me. You just kept goin’ down!”

“I just--”

“Panicked?”

Ai blinks owlishly as Ranmaru begins to guide them to shallower waters, the waves pushing them along, little by little. Ai grips his own hands to subdue their shaking.

“Yes, actually. I did the equivalent of panicking.” he admits.

“You shouldn't have jumped.”

“I did, though. This really isn't about what I should do after I've done so.”

“Then you shouldn't jump again.”

“Probably not.”

Ai’s scrunchy is falling lose, so once their feet can touch the sand, Ai lets go to fix it. His hair is long enough to brush his shoulders, even longer with the weight of the water pulling on every loose wave, and Ai drags his fingers through it all slowly.

Ranmaru is looking at him. There's no way it's easy, since Ai’s back is to the sun for the moment and its shining in his eyes, but there's _something_ in that look.

Maybe it was okay that Ai didn't get swallowed whole by the sea. That look was interesting enough to investigate.

“What?” Ai asks.

“Nothing. Just didn't realize your hair was so long.” Ranmaru admits after a beat of silence, one hand coming up to tug a wayward strand back. “It’s cut a little weird, though.”

(Choppy, he meant, and Ai knew just _how_ messy the cut was.)

“I got frustrated one day,” Ai says suddenly, tongue loose from this rattling thoughts. “Everyone kept confusing me for someone else. So I just. . . took a pair of scissors one day and started cutting chunks off. I refused to let anyone else touch my hair again, because I felt tired of being called by the wrong name so often, and it eventually became popular with my fans so it stayed.”

A moment of quiet passes by, Ai tilting his head to the side as he watches Ranmaru’s expression flicker.

“That’s punk as fuck.” he finally says with conviction. “For a twerp you've got some moments.”

“Ha. For a geezer you've got some vitality.”

“ _Hey_!”

Ai snorts, wiping his face off and resting his forehead against Ranmaru’s shoulder as he wrangles his hair back into place. Ranmaru still has one hand on Ai’s side, and his fingers twitch slightly.

_Something on his mind._

“Ai,” Ranmaru says slowly. “Did you do that on purpose?”

“Do what? Jump?” Ai jokes. “I kind of have to do that on purpose.”

He hesitates before speaking again.

“Did you let yourself sink on purpose?”

Ai’s joints lock up, _unholy stillness_ , and his hair falls loose again as his scrunchy snaps with tension.

“Ai.”

Ai scoops up the remains of his scrunchy, turns, and starts towards the shore. Ranmaru catches up quick.

“Ai, what's going on?”

Ai ignores him, just like he ignores all his problems, and a buzzing builds behind his eyes like he’s kicked a beehive in his head. They hit the sand, and Camus looks on edge while Reiji is already standing, ready to intervene. Ranmaru grabs Ai’s arm and yanks him back.

“Ran,” Reiji says with an edge to his voice.

“Let me go.” Ai whispers, tugging a little. “Ranmaru, I'm nauseous, _let me go_.”

Ranmaru does let go and Ai goes straight to the the house. He doesn't bother analyzing the look on Reiji’s face, torn like paper, and instead throws himself onto the bathroom floor and throws up into the toilet.

“I just tried to kill myself,” Ai says into the air, and he shudders and hunches over the bowl again.

Once the sick feeling subsides a little, Ai flushes and rests his cheek on his outstretched arm. The salt feels disgusting drying on his skin.

“How could you do that?” Ai whispers. “I feel awful. How did you do it?”

There's silence. Then, _I can't tell you that anymore. I was so scared_.

“ _I'm_ scared.”

Ai washes out his mouth and finds a new scrunchy, tossing the broken one out after a moment of staring. He can't quite leave the bathroom yet, though. He stares into the mirror, running his fingers through his hair.

“I had thought about it for so long, you know.” Ai says quietly. “Every moment I've been awake, I've thought about it, and I never did anything until today. And the first scrap of bravery I get, I use it to try and drown.”

_Bravery is dangerous. So am I. And I'm sorry._

“You didn't make me this way.”

 _I did_.

Ai swallows and wonders if he could cry without anyone knowing. But he hears the deck door slide open, soft footsteps padding towards the bathroom, and Ai pushes the urge away. They knock.

“Ai.”

Camus. Ai wonders if he could find an escape route at this point. He opens the door and Camus takes his wrist immediately, dragging him towards the staircase.

“Cam--”

“We’re going to run some errands,” Camus says regally, voice shutting down any debates. “Take a shower, we’ve got a decent sized list to look over.”

Camus practically dumps Ai in front of his door, and Ai could cry in relief. Instead, when Camus turns to leave, Ai plasters himself on his back in a hug. Camus hesitates, then places his hands over Ai’s reassuringly.

 _I want to be normal,_ Ai doesn't say. _I don't like myself, I don't like what I'm doing, I don't like what I am._

Instead, Camus says, “Be downstairs in thirty minutes”, and Ai let's go with a weak hum of approval, and they part ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> im rly tired right now so im not super dialogue-y, but please dont hesitate to leave a comment of come chitchat with me on my [tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) !!! love you guys


	18. Seeing Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slivers of light from the mouth of the cave will never be enough; flashing the sun into their eyes will show the blind, but at what cost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise~ early update! this ch was just,,,,, too spicy and thicc to retain
> 
> y'all can yell at me real good tonight ;) anyway i cried writing a chunk of this chapter so i think that sets the mood
> 
> thank ethras and crystalized flowers who BOTH had convos w me this week that made me feel extra evil i mean inspired
> 
> edit: I REMEMBERED WHAT I WAS GOING TO SAY HERE, THAT I MADE A FUCK TON OF SHIT UP AAAAAND IM NO LYRICIST PLEASE FORGIVE THE CHEESY LYRICS, I JUST THOUGHT IT'D BE FUN TO MOCK AINE A LITTLE

The shower is great for getting rid of the disgusting feeling of sea salt trapped in Ai’s hair. It just feels good to  _ be _ clean because Ai doesn't really  _ feel _ clean.

Ai squeezes the water out of his hair, and muscle memory pulls a comb through the cyan mess and braids it from the very top of his head. Aine hates it when Ai does this, thinks his hair should just dry first, but it's not like Ai can catch anything from staying a little wet. Aine also hated when Ai dressed in dark colors, so Ai shrugs into a deep, bruised-violet shirt, a violent deterrent to conversation. Ai usually values talking problems over with Aine, keeping hand mirrors around the lab for those moments, but today he was no longer feeling generous; exhaustion creeps into his eyes, sparking like broken circuitry with everything Ai was keeping inside. He had been pandering to Aine his entire short life, anyway, so a moment of self fulfillment wouldn't be too selfish, would it?

He’s an odd picture, Ai is sure, but it's like when he cut his hair; the reaction is something so obviously  _ him _ , even if he really is just all of Aine’s bad habits, that nobody would bother calling him anything more or less than  _ Ai Mikaze _ .

Camus hums at the list as Ai makes his way downstairs. When he looks up at Ai, he cocks an eyebrow curiously but Ai doesn't bother asking; he's almost 100% sure nobody had ever seen him with his hair so tidily pulled back, or knew that he casually owned dark colored ensembles. There was a lot if things people didn't know about him. Sometimes it was like he was Aine, overflowing with charming secrets, but the reality was lies didn't equate to personality.

“Let's go.” Camus says, and as they step out, Ai snatches up a jacket hanging near the door.

It takes a moment to register that the jacket is  _ not _ his own, black leather and silver studs giving it away easily, but Ai still drapes it across his shoulders. He doesn't bother sticking his arms through, or else it'd be too obvious that the jacket is too wide for him, but its pleasant anyway; the collar hugs his throat and smells like burnt pine, drowning out some of the salt in the air. A few clouds have clustered in the sky, fluffy and white, unaware of Ai’s turmoil, and he watches them as they walk towards the town.

It’s a quiet trek. Camus let's Ai stew in his thoughts as they buy the odds and ends their other halves asked for. Ai hums between aisles and shop fronts, snippets of songs Aine never released because they were never quite done. They're familiar on Ai’s tongue, having sung them whenever Aine let him know a new one, something they both loved; Aine couldn't sing anymore, but Ai could, and Aine composed quietly as if peace wasn't something they had never known.

Now the melodies flutter out of Ai’s throat, pleasant and warm, warping to the sound of street performers dotting the sidewalk. There’s a slew of languages pouring out into the air, Japanese the most prominent but there's some English, Mandarin, and even Spanish. Ai translates some of the foreign lyrics, linking them to songs; he wants to drown in it, in the soft drumming and strumming and joyfully hoarse voices.

There's so much to be  _ said _ with music, more than Ai could ever say with words. Speaking was hard on his heart; it wasn't what he was  _ supposed _ to do, but singing was what he was  _ made _ to do. It was the only way he knew people would listen.

The shops are small and open aired, colored with washed out tropical shades and bustling with cheerful employees. They get recognized a few times-- Ai  _ did _ have very distinct colored hair, even from a distance--but they're mostly left alone. It's nice, actually; Camus doesn't ask question, and the atmosphere is calm, and Ai finally feels like he can relax again.

“Ai.” Camus says as they walk back, arms laden with bags; Ai can tell he’s going to break their tenuous peace.

“Yes?”

“Is there anything you want to say?”

Ai tilts his head back, looking at the slowly darkening sky.

“Yes.” Ai says finally,  _ honestly _ . “But I don't know  _ how _ to say it.”

Camus purses his lips, entire expression slightly pinched.

“Talking is not my strong point,” Ai continues calmly. “But I’m getting better at it. It’s. . . it’s sort of easier to talk to you, than with anyone else. So thank you. But there are things that are never easy to say, no matter how much you trust someone.”

“That doesn't mean you shouldn't try to say it though,” Camus argues. “You trust me, so maybe you should trust me to support you in saying it.”

Ai bites his lip.

“Thank you.”

* * *

Ai decides to cook, because it was something Aine never did if he could help it. It was the little things, after all, that separated them. Reiji and Ranmaru had both stumbled in soon after, as Camus and Ai had started to put things away, and had both gone for a shower.

“That’s my jacket.” Ranmaru accused before he makes his way up, and Ai snorts as he hangs it back up next to the door.

“I needed it more.”

Ai waves Camus off once they're done stocking, knowing he was peopled out after spending all day with them.

“I can cook just fine, I promise.” Ai assures, lips quirking up. “I made it a priority when I realized Dr. Kisaragi was awful at realizing when to eat and  _ what _ to eat.”

Camus hangs around for all of two minutes before giving in and escaping to the study to weasel off one of the classics packed into the endless shelves. Ai settles into the soft quiet as he cooks, waiting.

_ Ai _ .

“Mhm?”

Silence.

“I'm not mad.”

_ You should be. _

“Maybe, but I'm not.” Ai digs around the fridge, plucking ingredients out one by one as he talks under his breath. “So don't make it weirder than it's going to have to be.”

_ If you insist. _

“If you're actually deferring to me you must feel  _ really _ bad.”

_ Maybe. _

Ai shakes his head, getting back to work. He inevitably starts humming again, melodic and soft, to entertain himself through the sizzling and clicking.

“ _ A crescent moon hung up by stars _ ,” he half-sings. “ _ A world pulled into parts _ .”

_ Oh don’t sing that!, _ Aine yelps, and Ai laughs.  _ That one is just bad. _

“I liked it.” Ai teases. “ _ A porcelain heaaart. . . _ ”

Aine groans and Ai delights, knowing no matter how embarrassed Aine felt, his old music was his strongest tether to joy. It was easier to try and lighten the mood than to dwell on it; he’d parse it out later, when sleep dragged through his system and they could talk freely without fear of interference. Ai flicks through songs, some released but most of them were still tucked in notebooks in piles of boxes cleaned from Aine’s old room.

“ _ A park bench that holds all our memories _ ,” Ai is singing in earnest now, almost done. “ _ Will always lie in wait for our return, my heart desperate to reach its perigee with yoursss _ \-- god, so cheesy!--  _ I'll use my hands to hold onto your concerns, _ ”

Ai clicks off the stove top, making his way to the sink to start placing everything he had dirtied in the dishwasher.

“ _ If I could dream for one more night, I'd like for it to be right by your side _ ,” Ai continues despite his teasing, tapping out a rhythm with a washing brush against the edge of the sink. “ _ I want to dreaaaam of a better tiiiimeee, a world empty of all its fauuullttsss, no more blood than wiiiineee _ \--”

Ai is laughing, jovial, as Aine complains,  _ listen, I wasn't always a lyrical genius alright ya jerk _ ?, and he spins around with the brush, singing into it. Eyes squeezed shut from his grin, Ai continues.

“You don't even like wine, but alright,  _ no more his fault than miiineee, melting awayyyy--” _

Ai leans against the counter, losing his rhythm with a snort and wiping at his eyes, finally looking up and blinking away any darkness.

He ends up looking directly at a  _ very _ pale looking Reiji. The look Reiji is giving Ai punctures a hole in the bubble of joy Ai had so desperately built himself to survive until the end of the night. “Fuck!” blasts across Ai’s head in bold, red capitals.

“. . . Hello.” is what he says instead of cursing like a sailor, slightly embarrassed. “I didn't realize you were, ah, there. I was being quite loud.”

“How do you know that song?” Reiji asks, voice shaky and thin.

_ You could have told me he knew it. _

_. . . He knows them  _ **_all_ ** _. _

Ai could scream in frustration.

“I was just singing out loud.” Ai tries, casually going back to loading the dishwasher. “Just whatever I was thinking. I can't say it was very cohesive, though.”

_ He's not gonna buy that _ , Aine says as Reiji hesitantly steps closer.

_ Maybe you shouldn't have written a love song about how you guys met and then let me sing it full blast, Aine, shut up, will you? _

“That’s not true,” Reiji says, shaking his head quickly. “It can't be, I know those words.”

“I admit, I might be pulling some inspiration from songs I've heard.”

Reiji pauses, as if trying to remember whether Aine had released that one in particular or not. Aine’s music still circulated over radio stations on occasion, considering how much he had been adored and how much talent he possessed; they played more frequently when his “disappearance” anniversary rolled around, the industry quietly mourning in its own way. Nobody said his name anymore unless they were announcing his songs. The internet still went wild for him, and Ai made sure to keep away from  _ that _ whole mess for his own peace of mind.

He finishes loading all the pots and pans, shutting the dishwasher but not turning it on yet; instead he turns to exit past Reiji.

“No,” he finally whispers, voice rising slowly. “No, no no no, he never finished that one, you couldn't have heard it anywhere.”

Reiji spins around, and Ai almost  _ does _ scream because he was almost  _ out _ , almost able to just  _ disappear _ . Disappearing was their strongest Kisaragi-Mikaze talent, by far.

“Really, I--” Ai starts, turning to face Reiji cooly only to find him steadily descending upon Ai.

“Ai, where did you hear those lyrics?” Reiji insists. “Ai,  _ tell me _ .”

Ai stumbles away from Reiji’s intensity, and he hears a door crack open a little ways away. Reiji’s eyes are blazing, hot with something like anger and misery and unabashed hate.

“ _ Ai! _ ”

“What's going on?” Camus asks, venturing towards the counter looking into the kitchen.

“Do you really want to know?” Ai whispers, stepping back; it doesn't matter because Reiji is meeting him step for step out of the kitchen and into the living room.

“Why else would I ask?!”

Ai grins, sharp and slightly mean, letting some of Aine bleed into his body, all the bad bits he had willingly adopted. Reiji startles at the expression, slowing down as if scared; that was not a typical Ai expression, not by a long shot.

“You  _ did _ always like asking questions you didn't always want the answer to, Reiji. I can't help but question it when you're so obviously upset.” Ai says, stopping Reiji dead in his tracks. Those eyes feel so cruel set on Ai’s face. “I knew you'd look at me that way.”

“What?” he murmurs, voice small.

“It doesn't matter what I say, does it? You'll only see  _ him _ .” Ai says, familiar half-hysterical laughter bubbling up his throat. “You’ve never been able to see me, you just-- just refuse to look at me, listen to me, I'm  _ nothing _ like him!”

“Ai--”

That's Camus, slowly getting closer.

“What's with the fuckin’ yelling?”

That's Ranmaru, descending the stairs.

“Tell me.” Reiji says, and Ai knows he has  _ no _ idea what he's really asking for.

“ _I’m_ _not_ _Aine_ _Kisaragi_ ,” Ai says, whole body shaking with the weight of his words. “I've _never_ been Aine Kisaragi. I've completely failed at that, haven't I? Maybe in looks I'm his mirror but I'm not him, I'm _not_ , so _stop looking at me like that_.”

It doesn't work of course, Ai shouldn't have  _ expected _ it to; now there's three pairs of eyes trained on him, ranging from confused to curious to shaken.

“He fucking-- he fucking put himself into a coma, and Shining Saotome couldn't let it go, so he got me made,” and it's like the dam is broken, everything flowing out like an overflowing river. “Because he couldn't just let him rest in peace, and I've spent every day I've been awake with Aine;’s voice in my head, reminding me I'm not like him because I'm not half as mean or half as talented or half the man he was, because Aine,  _ God _ , Aine is  _ so much. _ He’s brilliant, overwhelmingly brilliant, the fucking-- brightest star in the sky!”

Ai laughs again, getting further away from his audience with barely-balanced steps.

“He’s so much more than I could ever be, I know, so if you could  _ stop looking at me like that, _ please--”

_ Like I personally pushed the accelerator _ , Ai thinks wildly,  _ like I held his head underwater, like I silenced your phone _ . But it doesn't work because now Reiji is looking like Ai killed Aine with his own two hands, tears spilling over his cheeks, paler than the moon, and Ai hates himself suddenly; he hates that no matter what, he'll never be enough, Aine left a hole too big and all Ai can offer is much too small, crumbs to Aine’s boulders.

“I'm not enough,” his tongue trips out like a desperate prayer. “I know I'm not, I've never been even though I'm supposed to be better, but  _ I'm not enough _ . I know I'm not enough, _ I know I am, _ but not being enough is all I can offer. Aine should be here. I shouldn't. I shouldn't  _ be here _ .”

Ai's mouth feels bloated with things he should have never said, tongue thick and unmoving. It feels like crystals are caking his face and then cracking under the pressure of sobs, and Ai realizes he's crying under the looming sense that a thousand eyes are looking right through him. He covers his mouth, a last ditch effort to keep it together--  _ he'd done it now, said too much, nothing to stop him from being decommissioned,  _ **_nothing to stop him_ ** \-- and refuses to look at anyone in their face anymore. He doesn't want to see the settle of realization as to what he's admitting, doesn't want to see how his world is about to change for good now because nobody in this room was ever going to look him and see  _ Ai Mikaze _ ever again.

“How?” Reiji asks, not moving. “A coma?”

Phantom hands press through Ai’s hair,  _ you can tell him _ , and Ai shakes his head.

“Drove off a cliff. Into the water.” Ai says, and his whole body sags under water pressure crumpling a heavy frame and shards of glass kissing skin. “I said it.”

_ Ai, its okay. _

“It’s not okay, it’s never going to be okay again because  _ I said it _ and now there’s a reason to be terminated.”

“What the fuck,” Ranmaru mutters, and Ai can't look at him because he knows every little feeling will flicker through his face and Ai  _ can't stand it. _

Without looking up, Ai makes his way to the door and out of the beach house, and if someone tries to stop him, Ai doesn't notice. He looks out instead to the town, hears strains of mixed music, and it’s  _ all too much _ . He drifts over to the sand and steps down.

Anywhere was better than where he was recognized.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> i always think up clever captions then forget them when i actually post lol
> 
> come hit me up on [tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) if ya wanna b extra salty abt this (id be salty @ myself if i was y'all)


	19. Shrapnel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im rly stressed and upset rn, which is crazy cause update days are the highlights of my week usually seen y'all got the talent to make me melt. basically this means ive been a little off while editing, so it might be extra messy; id appreciate it if you guys told me about any mistakes you catch <3
> 
> but i promise this chapter is a lil nicer than the name suggests it is lolllll
> 
> enjoy!!!
> 
> edit: I FORGOT TO MENTION I MADE LITERALLY EVERYTHING ABOUT AINE UP, LIKE, EVERYTHING MAN, THE MOMENT A SINGLE THING ABT HIM GETS RELEASED TO CANON THIS FIC WILL BE DECIMATED BUT YEAH JUST A FAIR WARNING ABT THAT WHOLE SHENANIGAN

Reiji falls onto the couch, the quiet click of the front door shutting sending shudders through him and weakening his knees. He feels like a leaf in the breeze. Ai was a fucking hurricane and had dredged up everything in the ocean of Reiji’s heart and spat it out into the open.

Everything hurts. Reiji’s head spun with what Ai had said,  _ Drove off a cliff. Into the water _ , and Reiji looks out at the churning ocean,  _ with his voice in my head _ , and a realization hits him like a freight train.

“Ai,” he whimpers, fear slowly trickling into his body. “Fuck,  _ Ai _ , idiot--”

Shooting up, he’s met with Camus’s chest-- when had he moved close?-- and a cool hand on his shoulder.

“Camus, we have to-- we gotta find Ai,” Reiji says, scrubbing his eyes. “He's not safe.”

“Why?”

“Aine-- if he's, he said the truth, Aine tried to-- to--” Reiji feels sick, slow,  _ heavy _ . “Aine had tried to kill himself before, and he did it again, and Ai is here, and I thought that jump was suspicious but I didn't think--”

The front door slams shut and Reiji jumps, head whipping around desperately.

“Ranmaru went to look for him.” Camus says assuredly, even though Reiji is sure they hadn't said a word to each other all day.

That was it, though, wasn't it? They all had become synchronous, a timepiece that  _ worked _ , notches lining up and moving smoothly; and when Reiji couldn't quite bring his feet to move, Camus places him back onto the couch neatly, like a good cog picking up slack.

“Why don't you tell me about. . . Aine.” Camus says after a moment. “I do not recognize the name.”

Right. Camus was a foreigner.

“Aine Kisaragi was my best friend back when I went to Shining Academy.” Reiji starts, looking at his hands instead of at Camus. “We graduated together, and when it came to idol work, Aine did. . . did really great. He was charismatic, and charming, and he knew how to make people love his rough edges. He was a little mean, but he-- he was the lodestone of our group, kept us together.”

Reiji pauses, swallows hard.

“Aine was really. . . really  _ depressed _ . But he was always wonderful with everyone he met, and never let any one of us down. Never let a fan waiting too long. He didn't always  _ look _ like it, but he was a sweetheart deep down inside.”

Reiji quietly digs for his phone, shaking enough to mess up his passcode a few times before finally managing to unlock it. He pulls up Aine Kisaragi in his search bar, flicking through the pictures of interviews and photoshoots before finding the one he was looking for. A wobbly smile settles on his lips.

“Here. This was his favorite photoshoot.” he says, passing the phone over.

Camus’s eyebrows raise slowly. It had been a raunchier shoot-- splayed up top were the words, “Tokyo Devil”, one of Aine’s singles, and under laid Aine on an ornate white couch. He looked bored at the camera, long, straight hair cascading over a shoulder almost lazily; wearing an all black ensemble, the button up had several buttons popped open and the tie was loosely tugged away and in Aine’s hand. He looked, for all the world, like he could eat the viewer up or have them between his legs and he wouldn't care.

“When the shot was over he came over to me and said, “Reiji, I really do look like a douchebag” and all I could say was--” Reiji chokes on a laugh. “--was, “babe, you're always a douchebag!” and he shoved me.”

Reiji covers his face, shaking his head. All the little moments with Aine pile up, all he post-work chill sessions and all the moments just for them and all the moment stolen away. He feels weak.

“He and Ai do share a striking similarity, but they're not exactly the same.” Camus says after a while of flicking through results and analyzing. “His hair is much darker than Ai’s, and the cut is different. Their eyes look different, just the way they look out at the world. Their face shapes are quite similar too, but Aine’s is sharper.”

“He always looked dangerous,” Reiji admits. “I used to tell him he looks like a knife with a wig.”

“Ai doesn't, though.” Camus continues, eyes flicking up to watch Reiji. “He’s very. . . soft, in comparison?”

“Yeah, not just in the face.” Reiji agrees. “The way he moves is a lot calmer, I don't think I've ever seen Ai make a sharp turn! Aine was-- was, y'know,  _ explosive _  like he was always overflowing with too many emotions. He took up all the room wherever he went, and it made him really-- really popular.”

“I wouldn't think Ai does that unless he's working at it.” Camus muses. “He’s very much an everyman, almost malleable?”

“ _ Camus _ !”

“Well what can I say? He did a  _ very _ good job of avoiding you, he was practically invisible at your side.” Camus states, matter-of-factly. “But when he's next to, say, Ranmaru, he’s bursting with energy, or around Kurusu and Shinomiya, he has a more authoritative stance.”

Reiji stops, gaze lifting to meet Camus’s, his ice blue eyes trying  _ very _ hard to communicate with Reiji. Realization slowly sinks its claws into Reiji, steady as a river, steady in a way his heart was not.

“ _ Oh _ .” he breathes out.

“It seems to me, from knowing Ai, that he only shares some characteristics with Aine. I could be wrong, but I don't think so.”

Reiji is-- a mess, really.

“He said to stop looking at him,” Reiji says, words weighted. “That I was. . .  _ looking _ at him.”

“I think, Reiji, that you've struggled to see Ai as an individual. And I think Ai realized that.”

“. . . I avoided him. And, and he avoiding me in return. I-- I can't remember the, the last time we actually spoke to each other?”

Camus hums and stands, making his way to the kitchen. Reiji appreciates the space, because now he’s realizing things that he should've  _ known _ . Ranmaru had lectured him a few times about whatever problem he and Ai were having, but Reiji didn't know he'd been so transparent in his mourning to Ai. He didn't think the fissure between them had become so daunting.

(Of  _ course _ it was transparent, Ai had seen it all before; Aine had been Reiji’s crutch when Reiji’s grandfather had died, had seen every inch of his maddening sorrow. Reiji wonders if anyone else looked at Ai as Aine, and flinches at the thought.)

Camus returns with tea, and Reiji gratefully accepts it with a weak smile.

“So Aine is alive.” Camus says.

“In a coma.” Reiji continues, settling into the softness of the couch for support. “I thought he was. . . dead, these last few years.”

“You're holding on fairly well.”

“I don't have to stare a ghost in the face for now, so it's easier. When Ai comes back, though, I can't promise much.”

Reiji was still teary, a few slipping down, but he had stopped sobbing in place for contemplation; sadness had never fit him well, always swallowed up by a need to understand and use. He wouldn't have become adept with people if he couldn't fold his reactions and form them into something worth looking at. Aine had called him two faced once, made duplicitous by the industry, but he had thought idol work brought out the worst in people.

“Aine was so  _ lonely _ ,” Reiji whispers, staring at his tea. “He had us, but he was always trapped in his own head. He had spent so long by himself, he forgot how to open up after a while. And all I can think of is that I've done it again; I let him down again, because surely Ai is the same? You're closer to him. Is he lonely?”

Reiji looks at Camus expectantly, unsure as to what he wants to hear, and Camus thinks carefully. He combs through all of his and Ai’s interactions, tries to remember details, twitches, words.

“I think so.” Camus finally says. “I think he kept so much to himself, he forced himself into isolation. It obviously weighed a lot on him to admit his connection to your friend, so maybe there's more that he’s kept hidden because of it.”

Reiji closes his eyes, finally taking a sip of tea. It's soothingly warm, and he pointedly avoids thinking about how cold the water must've been for Aine. That was for later, when Ai was here, where they could talk and Reiji was sure he was safe.

“Do you think Ranmaru will find him?”

“They have a way of finding each other.” Camus assures.

“They do, don't they?”

Reiji's leg jitters anxiously, but he manages to throw Camus a shit eating grin. He may not have noticed Ai, but it was hard to  _ not _ notice Ranmaru, and Camus just rolls his eyes.

“Finish your tea.” Camus finally insists, waving Reiji off.

“Yeah, yeah!”

* * *

Ranmaru is bouncing into his shoes impatiently, phone pressed between his cheek and shoulder, when Ai picks up.

“Mm?”

“Where are you?” Ranmaru asks immediately, finally getting one shoe on.

“Out.” Ai replies, impertinent as ever.

“Ha ha, real  _ funny _ smartass. Tell me.”

“You're just gonna make me go back.”

“Maybe I'm just a little  _ concerned _ .” Ranmaru grinds out.

“Blasphemous.”

They both go quiet, and Ranmaru pauses and just  _ listens _ . He can't hear much, just Ai breathing and the vague sound of the ocean, so that ruled out the town; it was currently alive with music despite the dark, strung up with lights and shop fronts open. He slips off his shoes and places them outside of the door, making his way to the beach instead.

“So.” Ranmaru says.

“Mm. So.” Ai replies, unyielding.

“You gonna tell me about that whole yellin’ thing?”

Ai’s breath hitches, and the metallic, staticy quality that always subtly lined his voice becomes a little more audible.

“ _ I _ don't yell, first off.”

“You should. It’s real refreshing to get shit off your chest that way.” he says as if its a well known fact.

“I don't think so,” Ai says skeptically. “ _ You _ yell. I don't think you're the posterboy for emotional stability.”

“Rude,” Ranmaru growls out, and he’s rewarded by Ai’s low laugh. “Just tell me where you are.”

“Somewhere.” Ai says, and there's nothing mocking to it. “Think I'm on the cliff from earlier today. I don't remember how I got here, and I'm really comfortable looking at the sky, so I don't wanna move.”

That’s weird. That’s really, really weird. Ranmaru changes course and starts walking over to the cliff, spotting a pair of lazily swinging legs hanging over the ocean.

“How do you not remember?”

“Moments of high emotional distress tend to just. . . blank out on me,” Ai admits quietly after a moment. “It’s always happened. A sort of defense mechanism to keep from shutting down.”

He goes quiet again, and Ranmaru isn't sure how to bridge the silence. Instead, he listens as Ai hums and mumbles to himself, snippets of a conversation he can only hear half of--  _ not really, I don't know, I guess I'm just tired _ . As he finally walks up the slope of the cliff, Ai tilts his head back and watches Ranmaru approach. He’s sprawled on the rock, braid a mess and eyes red; in a bid for realism, the doctor had given Ai’s body as many natural reactions as possible, so through his tears his eyes were bloodshot and puffy, cheeks a hot pink with distress and exhaustion heavy on his shoulders.

It strikes Ranmaru how  _ human _ Ai looks then, shaking and tired under a too-thin moon and constellations half hidden by the light behind them. Even after knowing he wasn't, Ai had still seemed like a person; an odd person, yes, but a person nonetheless. As Ranmaru sits down next to him, there’s no recognition in his eyes of his own humanity.

“When you think, and talk,” Ai says suddenly, breaking the tentative silence Ranmaru was struggling to uphold. “Sections of your brain light up, so to speak; electricity courses through those areas, and neural pathways are strengthened by repetition. I can read those flashes in Aine, and I can interpret them as words, movements, thoughts. Aine’s mind is awake, but his body isn't. So those flashes, those interactions between neurons, become thoughts for me; I can hear him in my head, telling me this or that. And as the years have gone by, it has become easier for him to just. . .  _ talk _ to me. So he just talks to me, and I answer, and that's how it works.

“It is, in part, what I was meant to do. Try to stimulate his brain so that it can in turn wake up his body. You  _ could _ , theoretically,  _ just _ do it with my programming, no body required, but Shining Saotome wouldn't let it sit. Aine was famous. Beloved. He was amazing at what he did. And they wanted me to do the same.”

Ai trails off, eyes glittering unnaturally. Ranmaru looks up at the moon instead of at Ai before he speaks.

(He wouldn't survive seeing Ai’s expressions when he said this; Ai wasn't  _ expressive, _ but he always managed to give himself away around Ranmaru anyway.)

“You're amazing at what you do, too.” Ranmaru assures. “I don't think it's fair for you to try and be Aine Kisaragi when you're Ai Mikaze. It’s not fair to the memory of him, either. You have to forge your own path away from him, because walking the same one would be a shame for you both. I don't know the circumstances, but maybe you should work to make yourself proud and he’ll be just as proud of you because of it.”

Ai let's out a little hiccup, sitting up, a whirlwind of energy suddenly as he half-laughs, half-sobs. He curls in on himself, covering his face, and Ranmaru immediately thinks, ‘ _ holy fuck, I broke him _ ’ with mounting distress.

“Aine says you're the smartest jerk on the market,” Ai chokes out, scrubbing at his cheeks. “And that we're idiots for not figuring out what a, a jerkass punk tripping over himself can in a few months versus 5 years of companionship.”

Ranmaru snorts through an offended, “fuck ‘im”, letting Ai lean against him as his laughs shake out of his system. He goes quiet again, calming down a little even though his breathing isn't quite evening out. After a moment, Ai sinks bonelessly into Ranmaru’s side and Ranmaru drapes an arm around Ai’s shoulder.

“Ranmaru.”

“Mhm?”

“I don't want-- Don't-- uhg,” Ai buries his face against Ranmaru’s shoulder, sounding surprisingly frustrated with himself; Ranmaru pets his arm a little. Ai’s voice is tremulously quiet. “You're. . . not going to look at me any different, will you?”

Ranmaru blinks in surprise.

“Hey, hey, look at me for a sec?”

Ai does, head tilting his head to the side, ever curious and soft. Ranmaru lifts his free hand and swiftly flicks Ai’s forehead.

“Hey!”

“Of course I'm not gonna look at you funny,” Ranmaru grouses, rolling his eyes. “You're Ai Mikaze, angelically annoying as shit, and you’re always gonna be  _ yourself _ as long as you're yourself around  _ me _ .”

“You're a dick.” Ai said, but he's laughing a little as the tension leaks out of him.

Ai let's himself relax into Ranmaru’s hold, grabbing his phone from where he'd placed it off to the side. The brightness of the screen cuts odd shadows across Ai’s cheeks, highlighting how tired he really looked.

“ ‘m gonna text Camus.” Ai explains after a moment. “Tell him I'm fine. I don't want to go back yet, though. I don't think I can-- can face Reiji, yet.”

“Tough as shit.”

“Yup.” Ai hums, texting smoothly. “He’s a good person, but the way he  _ looks _ at me--  _ hurts _ . I didn't think I could hurt, but it's hard; I  _ know _ him, and I want to-- I want him to see that it's me, not Aine.”

“He’s the one missin’ out on ya.”

“That's sweet of you to say.” Ai says, and pauses as if he's listening to someone, mouth dropping a little. “ _ Aine _ !”

“He sounds like a jerk.”

“Yeah, it's why I know how to put up with you.” Ai shoots back, cheeks flushed. “And really-- Damn it, I'm gonna throttle you, I swear-- I should stop with the whole speaking out loud thing, shouldn't I?”

“It's weird but it's up to you.”

“I don't want to encourage him any more than I need to.”

Ai almost seems flustered by a loud nature he didn’t usually indulge in; he couldn't help it though, since Aine knew how to push all of Ai’s buttons. Ranmaru barks out a laugh when Ai grumpily settles against his chest, purposefully focusing on his phone so as to not give Aine the time of day.

“Ah,” Ranmaru mutters. “What the  _ fuck _ is my life?”

“A mess now that I'm in it.” Ai says, quickly covering his mouth as if he didn't mean to say it out loud. “Oh god, my brain to mouth filter is gone.”

“It’s alright, nobody else here to hear ya say dumb shit.”

“If only that was always the case for you.”

“You're one mean flirt.”

“ _ Why does everyone keep saying that! _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) if ya want, love you guys <3


	20. Shards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to get those big pieces right on out from under the skin so that the wound can finally heal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hap Thurs yall, im very excited to release this chapter onto the world. I feel like im finally putting some parts to rest, and raising the other parts from where they lurk in shadows
> 
> its late here rn so if this seems a little under edited pls say so, i need to go thru all of this monster soon and comb out all the little kinks. if you catch anything, i always appreciate being told!

The trek back to the house is not a quiet one. Ranmaru teases Ai on one side, Aine grating from the other, and somehow through some asshole psychic linking or  _ something _ they line their barbs up. Ai feels too frazzled to keep himself in line, instead trying to hold onto anything that would keep him from veering out of control and into the ocean again.

“Can you two stop it with that?!” Ai whines, opening the door as Ranmaru sweeps up his shoes. “I am  _ not _ mean and I am  _ not _ a flirt. Camus! Say I'm not a mean flirt!”

Camus startles from where he and Reiji are watching a movie on the couch. Ai huffily cleans off his feet on the rug before walking further in; Ranmaru is hot on his heels, grin cracking his face in half.

“Sorry Ai-Ai, you’re a little of both.” Reiji says without looking, curled up comfortably.

“ _ Wow _ . I cannot believe you all.” Ai says, crossing his arms. “Ack, shut the fuck up you gremlin.”

Reiji and Camus whip around to look at Ai, eyes wide, and Ai covers his mouth; they had basically never heard Ai curse,  _ ever _ . Ranmaru is trying to keep his laughter inside, propping his cheek against Ai’s temple; the cursing and venom was new and amusing and Ranmaru  _ loved _ it.

“That was improper.” Ranmaru scolds, voice empty of reprimand.

“It’s not my fault he pulls out the worst in me.” Ai defends, flushing and avoiding everyone’s eyes. “It’s like having an older brother:  _ endlessly obnoxious _ .”

“Can't relate.” Ranmaru sing-songs.

“Yeah, cause  _ you're _ the annoying older brother.”

“Nah, can't relate either.” Reiji teases.

“ _ Your _ sister’s a saint.” Ai accuses, and like that, tension returns to the room.

“. . . She is.”

_ I wrote a song about her once, _ Aine says quietly, and Ai’s looks out into the dark of night, at the mess reflected back.

“You did?”

_ Yeah. It was supposed to be a pair with Tokyo Devil but I let it out as a separate single instead. _

“Oh. Huh. That’s deceptively straight of you.”

_ Ha ha, fuck you, you glorified tin can. _

“He's gonna do that a lot,” Ranmaru says, stepping away and stretching languidly. “The talking to himself thing. You two are gonna get yer shit sorted, and I'm gonna go to sleep.”

“I made food.” Ai opposes, lips twisting. “At least eat before you go to sleep.”

“ _ Bossy _ .”

“I won't deny that.”

Ranmaru rolls his eyes and pointedly makes his way upstairs instead of going to the kitchen.  _ Flip him off, no Aine I will not flip him off _ , and then he’s gone up the stairs without another word. Camus stands up smoothly, and after giving Ai a “we are going to  _ talk _ ” look, he goes upstairs also.

* * *

Ranmaru stands at the top of the stairs, looking down with a calm he doesn't actually feel. Camus side eyes him.

“Stop eavesdropping.” Camus says, making his way to his room.

“Fuck off.” Ranmaru grunts out, before going into his room. He leaves the door open a crack.

* * *

Ai precariously sits down on the edge of the couch, feeling exposed without a jacket on or long sleeves to pick at. He could never break his hand fidgets, though, so the knees of his pants becomes his fingers next victims.

“Can. . . can you explain how you're, um, connected?” Reiji asks after a moment, eyes drilling holes into the side of Ai’s head.

“I basically read his neural activity, and it translates into thoughts.” Ai summarizes. “So I can hear his thoughts in my head as I translate.”

“That’s. . . interesting.”

“He can hear you.” Ai blurts out. ”He can hear you, so if there's anything you want to say, you can say it.”

_ It’s like a séance. _

“It’s only  _ kinda _ like a séance, ‘cause if you don't shut up I'll be the one making you a ghost.” Ai huffs under his breath, rolling his eyes. “Not like they  _ exist _ but it’ll be easier to use you to quantify data.”

_ RUDE ASS-- _

“Are you talking to him out loud?” Reiji interrupts, and Ai is glad he seems to have missed the threat.

“Yes. It helps me. . .  _ distinguish _ our voices. Sometimes it’s hard to tell who said what, when, so if I speak out loud I can track my own words more easily.” Ai pauses, and wonders how far he could go with his honesty; he missed the ease of just  _ saying _ thing. “It’s hard, sometimes. I don't know if there’s actually an  _ Ai Mikaze _ , or if it's all just Aine. I'm not supposed to really let anyone know about Aine, though, so I try my best for there to  _ be _ an Ai Mikaze.”

Ai leans back into the couch, trying to get comfortable; talking about it was going to take it toll. He can't quite look over at Reiji, doesn’t want to know what expression he’s making after hearing that.

“But that’s aside,” Ai murmurs. “I know you probably want to say something. I'll. . . do my best to give you a faithful response.”

Reiji did, in fact, have things to say; he had been thinking of what he'd say to Aine since he’d opened up his phone to a distressed voicemail. All of it just flies out of the window in the face of actually  _ saying _ all of it.

“. . . I'm sorry.” Reiji says weakly, hands curling into the seat. “I know it's weak and that I’ve always been a clueless liar around you but I really, truly, am sorry I wasn't there for you.”

Ai chews his lip, head tipping back and eyes shut. Listening. He drapes an arm over his face, a garbled mumble coming out of his mouth; it sounds frustrated. Ai’s chest lifts in a breath deeper than Reiji’s ever seen him take, and it's because it's not  _ really _ Ai. He doesn't move but somehow his entire body language changes into a more familiar slouch and slur.

“You've always been an asshole,” Ai says, voice wavering as if he wasn't quite used to using it. “And I've been mad for  _ so _ long, I'm almost tired of being upset with you? It's easier being mad, though, because I loved you and if I didn't hate you, I'd be a little too heartbroken. But listen, ‘Ji, it wasn't really your fault; I  _ chose _ to do what I did. I made a mistake in not telling you how I was feeling sooner.”

“I-- I should have noticed, a little.” Reiji says, eyes blurring but voice strong. “Looking back it's so obvious, you were showing  _ all _ these signs and I didn't bother reading them.”

“You're not gonna let it go, huh?” and he snorts, harsh and mean. “Fine. We’re both a little guilty, then. And if you wanna make it up to me? Take care of this dumbass.”

Ai’s leg starts bouncing almost anxiously, and he goes quiet, mouth twisting. It looks like an argument is brewing inside of Ai’s head between them. Reiji scoots closer, noticing a few lazy tears making their way down the side of Ai’s face. Ai doesn't.

“I will.” Reiji interrupts. “I wasn't doing what I promised before, but I  _ will _ . I'm not gonna make this mistake another time. You both deserve better.”

“He’s making all of my mistakes, yanno, because he’s the biggest idiot I know, so make sure to leash him good.”

Ai jolts, making a small noise.

“Fuck you, this is why I never let you talk.” Ai spits out almost venomously, laying down and turning away from Reiji. “Goddamnit.”

“I don't think I've ever heard you curse like that.” Reiji teases despite his tears.

“Yeah,” Ai replies after a moment. “I don't know how to explain it, I'm not like this with anyone else.”

“He has a way of bringing people’s visceral feelings up.”

Reiji hesitantly tucks a stray strand of Ai’s hair behind his ear, the braid fraying at the edges. Ai doesn't move, but does open his eyes and flicks them over to look at Reiji. He looks foggy, like he’s not 100% there, and Reiji remembers the look-- at the café they went to after recording their first songs, when Ai had to abruptly leave. There's an emptiness there, not distressing but still concerning.

“I think that's enough for today, yeah?” Reiji says, voice soft. “Let's go to bed.”

“I’ll go up in a bit,” Ai promises. “Just need a few minutes.”

Reiji doesn't really want to leave Ai alone after that, isn't sure  _ he _ wants to be alone, but Ai shoots him a little, sharp grin; it's foreign on his mouth, almost doesn't fit right. It’s not an Ai smile as much as it is an Aine smile. 

“I just really need some quiet after all of that. I don't usually let him, ah, talk like that.”

“If you're sure?”

“I am. Thank you.”

Reiji pets Ai’s hair back gently before nodding and standing, wiping at his own eyes.

“G'night.” Ai manages to say, turning towards the TV and fishing for the remote.

“Good night Ai.”

* * *

Ai’s watching  _ Metropolis _ when he hears someone creaking down the stairs; he’s about 30 minutes in after taking easily an hour to flick through Netflix anxiously. He feels like he's underwater again, dissociating like a motherfucker just because he had lost a  _ little _ control, so he doesn't fully register that the footsteps are getting closer.

“You're watching a silent black and white movie.” Ranmaru deadpans, voice gravelly with sleep.

Ai jumps at that, closing his eyes to hide the sudden distress. Ranmaru grunts and leans over the couch, and Ai pauses the movie to turn and look at Ranmaru proper. The scene is familiar, and Ranmaru instinctively reaches down to press his knuckles to Ai’s temple.

“Your hair is a mess.” he teases lightly, deciding Ai is hot but not obscenely so.

“ _ I'm _ a mess.”

It’s true-- Ai is still flushed and puffy eyed, eyes struggling to focus. He’s also moving a little slow, and it looks like Ai knows it too.

“Have you eaten?” Ranmaru asks suddenly, and Ai groans as he sits up.

“I forgot completely about the food.” Ai says, hands going up to his hair. He pulls out the scrunchy and starts breaking the braid down as he speaks. “I don't think anyone put anything away, or put the dishes to wash. What a mess.”

The washed out fluorescence of the TV screen and stars blinking down from the windows reflect off the waves in his hair. It’s a little too minty to look like the sea outside, but it’s almost  _ fluffy _ to compensate. Ai gets distracted when he touches it, fingers curling and tugging absently as his mind races.

_ You're pretty inside and out, _ Aine murmurs into the chaos of Ai’s head, and Ai giggles.

“Sorry, sorry,” Ai says, looking over at Ranmaru, and Ranmaru looks a little flustered. “Aine just said something kind of funny.”

_ That's not funny though? _

“ ‘s a little bit funny.”

“What was it?”

“He said that I'm pretty inside and out,” Ai says as he stands up, not bothering to tie up his hair. “When on the outside I just sorta look like him, and on the inside I look like a bunch of wires.”

“Mm, nah,” Ranmaru decides as he follows Ai into the kitchen, untouched since his and Reiji’s argument. “He's right.”

“That's sweet of you.” Ai replies emptily, digging around for a plate. “Gonna call me angel face too?”

“Sounds like a Reiji line.”

“It really is. Are you going to eat?”

“Can I trust your cooking?”

Ai hums as he piles food onto his plate, a little bit of everything, and grabs utensils, holding it out to Ranmaru with a cocked eyebrow.

“Figure it out by yourself.”

Ai primly returns to making his own plate while Ranmaru tries the food. It’s quiet until Ai turns back around to watch Ranmaru judge his food. The 180 in has mood is sharp, and Ranmaru wonders what happened to make Ai look like he’s drifting apart at the seams.

“It’s low on salt.”

“Yup.”

“Fine otherwise.”

“We can't all be expert chefs, Iron Chef Kurosaki.” Ai mocks softly, eating with unparalleled ease.

“Fuck off.”

“Meh.”

They eat in quiet peace, Ai’s focus drifting in and out. This is familiar to Ranmaru in a more intimate way; in fact, everything about this called back to their impromptu dinner weeks ago. Ranmaru hadn't left him alone then, and he wouldn't leave Ai alone now. They clean up together, bumping shoulders and hips for guidance, and at the end of the night, as midnight crawled upon them, Ai rests his cheek on Ranmaru’s shoulder.

(Ai looks worse than when they had dinner together though, which feels like forever ago. He looks like he’s fabric worn by time and losing it's shades.)

“Tell me about your family?” Ai asks quietly, voice vulnerable. “You don't have to say anything, but I would love to hear about them.”

Ranmaru pauses, drumming his fingers on the countertop.

“Let's compromise,” Ranmaru suggests slowly. “I'll tell you some, but you have to go to bed soon. You're tired.”

“I can agree to that.” Ai says, and it was suddenly easy to open up a little more.

Ranmaru tells Ai about his sister, Nozomi, who was a bright middle schooler with a love of colorful hair and fashion statements. She seemed to be as much of a firecracker as Ranmaru.

“With a brother like you, how could she be any different?” Ai teases softly, but he seems more at ease after listening.

“She's wonderful but still a huge brat.”

Ai laughs.

“You have a soft spot for brats.” Ai says, poking Ranmaru’s chest lightly. Ranmaru grabs Ai’s hand with a grunt.

“I do  _ not _ .”

“You so  _ do _ .”

Ai smiles at Ranmaru, soft and cracking with some of that relaxed peace he’d been missing since they had gotten to the beach, and Ranmaru is suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to just lean over a little and  _ kiss _ him.

Ranmaru’s brain short circuits  _ real _ fucking quick. He quickly grabs Ai’s shoulders and turns him towards the stairs, trying to keep Ai from seeing how red he was starting to get.

“Alright alright, get up and to bed,” he mumbles, shoving gently.

“Hm? Oh, alright.” Ai agrees easily. “Let me just turn the TV off.”

“I'll get it, just get outta here.”

“Alright, thank you. Good night.”

“Yeah, yeah, night.”

Ai trots upstairs calmly, unaware of Ranmaru’s  _ entire _ mental freakout. Maria greets him on screen, in all her black and white glory, looking demure and rebellious.

“Oh fuck.” he tells her. “Fuck this.  _ Fuck _ .”

She, of course, does not answer his distress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do u guys kno how much i want the fucking ranai in this fic??? do you???????? do u kno how much i just wanna make em smooch???????????????? u dont now welcome to 20 more chapters of hell buildup: the fic lol
> 
> again, i base a lot of ai's dissociation on my own and i can be really pleasant when im outta it bc my brain just clicks into customer service mode looooooool
> 
> u can always chill w me on my [tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) where i always try 2 answer and i love u guys


	21. Sutures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thing's come together, thing's fall apart, but everything holds fast for better or worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nyello, this update is a day early because i have an appointment tomorrow and ive got no idea how im gonna come outta that so better safe than sorry amirite
> 
> im glad we all seem to be on the same page btw aka the "ran kiss the fucking robot you coward" page lol
> 
> have a good time y'all

The rest of the week is spent with a lot of  _ conversation _ . Ai tones down his conversations with Aine, and it's easy to find him muttering at no one in particular when he's suddenly walked in on. Aine doesn't become a staple as much as he becomes a distant concept. He also starts filling with color once more, the distressing emptiness from before fading.

Most nights Ai sits at the cliff by himself. Reiji invites himself into those moments, and they talk quietly. Reiji always returns before Ai does, since Ai had a habit of waiting for sunrise and then sleeping in until midday.

“A little chaos never hurt nobody.” Ranmaru assures Reiji every morning when he voices his concerns. “He's doin’ soul searching or whatever. You gotta let him.”

Ai spends a  _ lot _ of his afternoon with Camus, lounging around the living room and occasionally, the indoor pool. He only dips his legs in it at first, but he seems more okay with water as time goes on.

Actually, they  _ all _ sort of end up migrating to the indoor pool; the beach ceases being attractive all at once, but it'd be a shame to waste the time give to them. One day Ai eventually ends up sitting on the steps of the pool while talking to Camus, Ranmaru and Reiji doing their own,  _ very _ splashy, things in the deep end.

Evenings end up slotted with Ranmaru, and it leaves an odd feeling in his chest. Usually, Camus is the first to abandon ship, pretty much done with human interaction until dinner. Reiji sticks around a while longer, mostly annoying the hell out of Ranmaru for fun. Ranmaru ends up cornering him against the steps next to Ai today, who has been suspiciously silent with a little grin during the whole ordeal; he could easily break them up and make the afternoon last until sunset, but he let's Ranmaru chase Reiji out of the pool.

Reiji stumbles and laughs, teases Ranmaru from dry land, and Ai lazily drags a nail down Ranmaru’s arm to remind him launching at Reiji straight from the water is  _ not _ appropriate. Reiji pads off, scrubbing his hair dry and singing pleasantly as he makes his way upstairs.

Ai sighs, sinking further into the water as his whole body sags.

“Reiji is great and all, but if you keep that kind of track up, I'm gonna stop playing translator.” Ai says to the ceiling, and Ranmaru snorts, imagining what Aine had run across Ai’s head.

_Nasty, Miss Jackson,_ _nasty_.

“Need space?” Ranmaru asks.

“Not really.” Ai replies a little too quickly.

Ranmaru dives back into the water, deciding to do some laps and give Ai at least  _ some _ semblance of privacy as he chats with Aine. He had objected to Ranmaru outright leaving, still seeming a little restless despite having spent all day talking, but Aine was still a partly private concept. The sun is just starting to set when Ranmaru resurfaces for good, slicking his hair back as he sits on the last of the steps, leaning back so that he's submerged to the shoulders.

_ Gay _ , Aine declares, and Ai feels a little hot in the face.

“Not everyone is you, you know.” Ai complains, frowning.

_ Maybe but if Reiji and I got away with it, so can you. You're smarter than the both of us combined, so! _

“You only like to compliment me when you want to do something devious.”

_ Rude ass. _

“More like nice ass, flat bastard.”

Ranmaru chokes on a laugh, curling in on himself a little; even just hearing one half of the conversation was utterly hilarious. Ai’s face could probably boil water, and he quickly covers his cheeks with his hands.

“God, I hate you,” Ai whines. “You're the only one who can make me  _ so _ mad.”

_ It's a talent _ .

“Is it just a Kisaragi thing to say that every time you're being annoying?” Ai grouches, standing to properly go down the steps and into the water.

_ A familial annoyance! _

“Hn. I'll take it.”

Ai finally goes quiet, and Ranmaru sneaks up behind him just to be a pest. Ai shoots him a look over his shoulder, unfazed. It’s inevitable that they end up face to face, half floating in circles; Ai is trying to get used to the water, and the pool is a lot less scary than the ocean. There was also an inherent trust between them, since Ranmaru had already pulled Ai out of the water once.

“You could probably convince Reiji to teach you to swim.” Ranmaru says.

“I could, but he gets too anxious when I go into the water like this.” Ai replies lowly. “It’s not very obvious, but I can tell.”

“You know all his tics.”

“I do. I know all of yours too.”

“You do  _ not _ .”

Ai laugh. It's quiet, shy as if he's not used to making the noise, but its genuine as he splashes at Ranmaru. Ranmaru dips under and swims circles around Ai; when he pops up and out of the water, he sweeps Ai up, and Ai smacks his shoulder but holds on, lips twisted upwards.

“Annoying.” Ai says, letting them drift a little deeper without much protest.

“Not as annoying as you are.”

“Arguable.”

“As if!”

Ai splashes him again, much smaller this time, and Ranmaru casually shakes the droplets off. Ai pushes his bangs back, strands having fallen loose from his braid, and for a moment they’re just  _ looking _ at each other.

“I've been working on a song,” Ai murmurs, head tilting from side to side as if it focus. “Several, but mainly on just one. I'm struggling though. I'm not very good at passionate lyrics.”

“Passionate in what way?”

The acoustics in the pool room is actually pretty okay, considering that the only other thing in there is a gaudy fold out chair Camus had dragged in to chill out on. Ai clears his throat and sings, the bounce of his voice ethereal. He skips and stutters over half finished lines, and Ranmaru occasionally fills in where he can think of something that sounds pretty good. It's calm, and eventually the water turns an inky black as the new moon blends into the sky.

It's. . . peaceful, actually.

“Huh,” Ai interrupts himself, one hand coming up to touch his temple.

“What?”

“It’s peaceful. Inside my head and outside. I’ve never had that.”

“Guess this vacation was pretty good.”

“And I  _ still _ don't know how to vacation properly.”

* * *

Ranmaru’s head hates him the entire drive back.  _ Hates _ him.

They're all seated the same as their initial trip, except in an attempt to be as annoying as possible, Ranmaru had laid himself across the back seat. Ai had primly picked Ranmaru’s head up and dropped it onto his lap unceremoniously. Everything was okay at first, him dozing away as Ai rattled off directions to Reiji-- and then, the  _ fingers _ . He should have realized Ai’s restless habits wouldn't just abandon him all of a sudden, because while Ai is flicking through his phone with one hand,  the other finds it way into Ranmaru’s hair.

He’s careful to not pull on knots, and the pressure is light when he twirls a stand or two, and those hands were going to  _ kill all his fucking cool. _

Realizing he wants to kiss Ai’s stupid fucking android face is ruining Ranmaru’s life through and through. When he pops an eye open to complain, Ai clicks his tongue at him.

“ _ You _ decided to be annoying, so now you have to deal with the consequences,” Ai says clearly, bangs cascading to block the sunlight as he looks down at Ranmaru. “Basically, eat it.”

He undermines the harshness of his words by brushing Ranmaru’s own fringe out of his eyes. Ranmaru realizes he wouldn't mind never kissing Ai if he could just do this. He's fucking screwed to hell and back and he vaguely wants to die instead of have a ridiculous  _ crush. _ Ai gently petting Ranmaru’s jaw when it clenches doesn't help, but his body relaxes after a while.

He’ll live, probably.

* * *

Something feels wrong. It had been a low sense of general unease, steadily building throughout their trip. Ai had ignored it in favor of listening to Reiji and Camus argue about the best dog breed for a few miles, an  _ increasingly _ hilarious argument especially after Ai adds his two cents.

“A border collie,” Ai says when they ask. “They're smart, adaptable, and easy to care for.”

They both immediately fight him on it, giving varying breeds and then arguing with each other  _ again _ . Ai’s lips twitch, and he continues diligently running his fingers through Ranmaru’s hair. They stop at a gas station, and Reiji and Camus take the argument outside. Ai doesn't need to stretch his legs, so he gently shakes Ranmaru awake.

“You’re going to rot.” Ai deadpans and Ranmaru mumbles, sleepily burying his face into Ai’s stomach instead of getting up. “Were at a stop. You should get up.”

“How cute!” Reiji half screams from outside and Ranmaru growls more aggressively.

“I'm gonna kick his ass.” he says plainly and Ai’s lips quirk up a bit.

“You can keep a secret?” Ai teases as Ranmaru groggily gets up; he grunts out a ‘yes’. “I kinda want to kick his ass sometimes, too.”

Ranmaru barks out a laugh and finally gets out of the car, shutting the door. There’s two seconds--  _ just two seconds _ \-- of stillness inside before Ranmaru opens the door again to ask Ai if he was going to step out too, or die of heatstroke, dumbass?

All it takes is those two seconds for pure, unfiltered panic to sink its teeth into Ai’s body.

It's quiet in the car.

It's  _ too _ quiet in the car.

It’s quiet  _ in Ai’s head. _

Ai can't hear Aine anymore.

That underlying unease had stayed low because the car had been loud with arguing, with Ranmaru’s soft breaths, the radio, Ai’s own thoughts-- everything was there,  _ except _ for Aine’s voice in his ear. And it was just. . . gone.

“Are you gonna get out or die of heatstroke, dumbass?” Ranmaru asks, and Ai feels dizzy with how good the chaos outside sounds.

He wordlessly steps out of the car when Ranmaru offers a hand, and Ai feels hyperaware of-- of  _ everything _ , because he  _ can't hear Aine _ and his body is trying to fill in the gaps in sensation. Like someone cut his arm off. He can smell the petrol acutely, underlaid with heat banging on pavement and the scent of the sea clinging to them four like comet tails. The heat is dryer than the beach, less sticky but no less uncomfortable.

It’s overwhelmingly loud. There aren't many people milling between the pumps and the station, but there's music pouring from speakers left and right, _this_ _stuff is tacky,_ Ai can imagine, but he knows its not Aine. Aine’s thoughts had always blended seamlessly into the stream of consciousness that led to Ai’s mouth and this was nothing like it; a fabrication built out of Ai’s desperation could never be enough. He feels lonely, despite the fact he’s surrounded by people who, by all means, _care_ about him.

_ It's not the same, _ he thinks as he refuses to let go of Ranmaru’s hand and pulls out his phone distractedly.  _ It’s not the same, being with someone your whole unnatural life and then losing them, even for a moment. _

He’s texting the doctor without really thinking on it,  _ check on Aine, I can't hear him _ , before flicking between apps anxiously.

_ You're loud when you're afraid, _ Aine murmurs groggily, and Ai flinches.  _ I was just mindin’ my own business. Thought you always wanted me to shut up. _

“Hey, hey!” Ranmaru says, free hand steadying Ai; he shares a confused look with Reiji and Camus, their chatter scattered away. Ai had been quite still and totally silent, but that wasn't  _ odd _ ; this  _ was _ . “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Ai isn't sure what to say.

“I feel hot.” is what he  _ does _ say, which is at least the truth.

Ranmaru flinches when he touches Ai’s temple, shaking the sharp feeling of heat off.

“What the fuck, you're  _ burning _ .” he says, quickly letting go and backing off when Camus steps up.

“Don't touch,” Ai insists, stopping Camus’s hand. “If I'm that hot outwardly I shouldn't be touched.”

Camus scoffs, and the hard edges of his voice are comforting. His hand lands on the back of Ai’s neck, familiar swirls working their way into his hairline, and Ai let's himself relax into it.

_ Talk to me?, _ Ai thinks hesitantly, not thinking that its odd at all that he's shy in his own mind. They're back in the car, Camus and Ranmaru switching seats wordlessly, and the conversations around him don't feel as soothing as they once were.

It was his job to be aware of Aine at all times, and he had just failed at one of his prime objectives. He had failed at the beach too; nobody was supposed to know, and the eased weight from finally being honest returns tenfold. He was going to have to explain himself, the human failings he wasn't supposed to have.

He's contemplating whether reprogramming is better or worse than being decommissioned when Aine pipes up.

_ You're never alone, Ai, _ he assures tiredly, and he feels a phantom hand on his cheek.

_ Nice trick you're developing. _

_ I can tell you about it if you'd like. _

_ I'd be delighted. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol y'all probably thought everything was okay huh, huh. thought that opening door mentioned before was the romance potential, huh? you thought things were better? incorrect bitches we aint done here
> 
>  
> 
> [y'all know where to find me](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/)


	22. Quorum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only one person has to approve of action, no matter what the world may think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi this is rly late, im on vacation and didnt get a posting chance til rn
> 
> ill probably add more to this later when i have time lol

Syo and Natsuki are insatiable huggers, Ai finds out when he gets back to their dorm. He’s putting his luggage away when the door creaks open behind him.

“Ai-chan!” Natsuki squeals, and Ai has no time to prep when Natsuki picks him up like a ragdoll and squeezes. “We didn't know when you would be back! I'm so happy to see you!!”

“Natsuki, you're gonna kill him.” Syo complains as Ai swings around.

“I'm fine.” Ai assures, petting Natsuki’s arm reassuringly. “I am glad to see you two. How has it been without us?”

“A mess?” Syo offers, patting Ai’s shoulder once Natsuki lets him down. “Otoya cried at one point ‘cause he was stressed, so it was pretty weird. You four are so good at coping compared to us.”

“You rely too much on our stability,” Ai chides gently. “We cannot always stand tall.”

 _If that ain't the truth,_ Aine says, voice wispy and melancholic.

“But it's still nicer to have you with us.” Natsuki says sweetly. “Things are better with you around.”

Ai bites the inside of his cheek. He had been ready to wholeheartedly abandon them, at one point. They were strong, but the idol industry was a forest of wolves, and Ai knew that better than anyone; you can’t walk blind, like they thought they could. They'd never know about it, hopefully, but the knowledge weighed heavily on his head.

“I'm glad to be back.” Ai whispers fondly, and if he let's Natsuki cuddle him a little too much, nobody had to know it was for his own sake.

* * *

 

“Doctor.” Ai berates as he steps into the lab; he had arrived back last night, but couldn't stop by until the next morning, and the doctor looks like a complete mess. “Have you slept at all?”

“No.” the doctor says plainly from where he's sat at his lab table.

Everything is. . . _tense_ , to say the least. Ai carefully cleans up around the doctor, noting how much more disastrous the whole place had become in his week long trip. He had expected _some_ chaos, but he couldn’t have predicted that so much would end up strewn across the lab.

“His heart was skipping beats.” the doctor says, slow and steady. “That was likely why you. . . lost connection.”

Ai waits. The doctor says no more.

“That's bizarre. We usually stay together through most, if not all, irregularities. I’ve rebooted with him still close.”

Aine had never faded so acutely before. He’d fade increments, but never fully; Ai could almost forget about him, and _had_ a few times in recent months with how often Reiji’s presence scared Aine away.

(Aine spoke big, but had a cowardly streak Ai had never understood. Where had all his bravado gone in the face of a man dedicated to him?)

“I don't know why it was different this time.” Dr. Kisaragi admits.

Ai feels like the doctor is hiding something from him. He does not like the feeling at all, a thick sludge of uncertainty dripping into Ai’s lungs like a potent poison at the thought. It’s not like the doctor didn't have secrets, since _everyone_ had secrets, but he never really bothered to keep them from Ai. Then again, Ai had been keeping secrets himself lately, hadn’t he? And it’s not like he was programmed to be a liar in any sense; the thought knocks the unnecessary breath from his chest, _just because you made up with your band doesn’t mean you’ve said all your truths_ , and that’s his own voice releasing smooth accusations. Instead of dwelling on it, Ai finds his chair and sits in it slowly, not facing Dr. Kisaragi. Instead, he leans back and closes his eyes.

Maybe the entire truth was too dangerous-- not for the doctor, the good doctor who did nothing better than cope and move forward, something the children he took under his wing sorely lacked, but for Ai-- but there were parts Ai needed to voice.

(If he could even find half a voice to use; it seemed he was as much a coward as he counterpart now, mouth refusing to move, _I jumped off a cliff into the ocean, by the way, how odd is that?_ No, there goes his bravado like a startled bird from it’s cage.)

“What’s it like?” the doctor asks suddenly, breaking Ai out of his revier; Ai startles and turns his head to look at him. “Having Aine with you all the time?”

“. . . It’s a lot of things.” Ai whispers, scratching his arm anxiously. “Some conflicting things.”

“You can tell me if you’d like. I’m curious.” the doctor smiles, wrinkles pressing the corners of his eyes. “Be honest.”

 _Be honest?,_ Ai thinks sullenly, looking at the ceiling instead.

“Most of the time, Aine is like my left arm; necessary, useful, natural to have, as dominant as it needs to be. He is just a part of me, and I can’t describe it any more than I can describe the weight of consciousness or why I breathe when nobody is around to see me do so. It is just. . . _normal_ to have him around.”

“. . . But?” the doctor prompts thoughtfully.

“But it is so unbelievably _hard_ to be two people at once.” Ai finally confesses, fingers curling into the arms of his seat. “Aine is a person, such a whole person with so much, and I know that when I lose him I’ll only be a fraction of what’s left. I’ll still have to pretend to be a person for a while, before _I’m_ gone too, but that’s like trying to write with both your hands cemented into boxing gloves-- I’d have to learn everything all over again. Aine weighs like a human, there’s a host of-- of everything that completely overwhelms me, and I have never learned to deal with it; and yet the burden is what makes me me isn’t it? I. . . I don’t know, in the end, if _I_ just constitute as _us_. I suppose not knowing is very human of me, though. How disappointing to be what I am not.”

“You’re not disappointing.” Dr. Kisaragi says quickly.

“Sometimes I’m not enough, or sometimes too much. I’ve forgotten Aine at times. I’ve failed to put him aside in others.” Ai shrugs. “Maybe I am exactly what I need to be? None of it is soothing, if that is what you are aiming for.”

“You are Ai Mikaze,” the doctor says sternly, startling Ai. “Whether you like it or not, you are Ai Mikaze, you are my son, and I love you no matter what you think of yourself or what the world may think of you. You don’t have to _be_ anything to be worth _something_.”

Ai’s breath catches as the doctor takes his hands into his own, tugging Ai’s chair closer. His feet help him forwards without any thought, Ai unable to deny the doctor anything.

“I know it’s hard, that I've brought you into something horrifically complicated and shitty,” he continues, squeezing Ai’s hands. “I made a mistake in letting my grief lead me, but I was blessed with _you_ , your kindness, your personality, so subtle and boisterous in your own way, your endless patience. You’re so amazing, and I'm sorry for letting you down. I’m sorry for never telling you that you’ve always been more than I could ever hope for. I’m sorry for failing to be there for your heart. _I'm sorry._ ”

There is silence. It permeates the air like a tangible beast, prowling and watching, and Ai struggles to break away without getting bitten.

“. . . Why?” Ai finally asks, voice shaking. “Why are you apologizing when I'm the one who is making so many mistakes?”

“That’s the thing, Ai,” Dr. Kisaragi says, letting his hands go just to hold Ai’s face securely, making sure Ai doesn’t turn away. “You’re not making _mistakes_ , you're _growing_ . You've always been growing, and I haven't been helping you at all. So let me make up for it, okay? Let me better support you, because you don't deserve to feel that way. _You_ deserve more.”

Ai is crying again-- he had been crying a lot lately, hadn't he? More than he could ever recall doing before joining Quartet Night-- and he can’t even try to stop himself. Whether or not he thought the doctor was right in his analysis, Ai felt his chest shudder uncomfortably at the emotions it evoked-- and there it was, _emotions._ He hadn’t many of them before Quartet Night either, had he? But that was a lie, plain as day, and Ai knew it to be so; he had long since developed emotions, whether he liked it or not. A heart. _He had a heart._

Whatever kindness the doctor saw in him was a fraction of what was in the doctor himself, and Ai feels unable to convey anything else but his overwhelmed hyperventilating. So, Ai does something he’s so rarely indulged in outside of a few people: he throws himself into a hug, pulling the doctor close by the shoulders. He’s really just a shaking pile of limbs spilling into the doctor's lap, but Dr. Kisaragi holds Ai like he’s keeping Ai together.

“We’ll work on it,” Dr. Kisaragi whispers. “We always will.”

* * *

 

Having honest emotions is as exhausting as Ai expected it to be, and actually it’s a lot worse than he could have ever realized. It’s human and frustrating and awful and _beautiful_ ; he feels much more whole acknowledging his growth after his little crying session with the doctor. Except, now he’s deceptively tired at midday after all of that which is _stupid_. It was the same kind of tired that came with his bouts of dissociation, with pushing everything away only for it to come flooding back all at once, but a thousand times stronger.

He ends up at Ranmaru’s door somehow. He knocks.

“You look like hell.” Ranmaru says immediately when he opens the door, whatever scathing remark he had saved dying in the moment.

“Yes, I probably do. I haven't actually looked at myself yet though. Can angels look messy?”

Despite his gruff laugh, Ranmaru handles Ai with a carefulness rarely attributed to him; he guides Ai inside and sits him at a stool at the counter smoothly, not once letting Ai’s thoughts wander too far. Ranmaru taking care of him is so familiar, such an easy thing to fall into, that Ai doesn't even fully realize he’s begun leaning his weight against Ranmaru’s side. All he knows is that Ranmaru is surprisingly steady, a stubborn rock in the rapids of Ai’s head.

“What is it about you that always has me back here when I'm tired?” Ai asks, only half serious as he climbs onto the proffered stool diligently. “Maybe I've subconsciously realized you’re actually a mother hen.”

“I am not.” Ranmaru defends immediately.

“He's right,” Ren says stepping out of the bathroom, expectantly shirtless and rubbing his hair dry. “You fret like a headless chicken.”

“Please put on a shirt.” Ai says blandly, not even bothering to look at Ren.

“Aw, Aimi, don't you love me anymore?” he teases, digging through one of his drawers.

“That suggest I'd have to have loved you once, which has never happened and never will Ren.”

Ren gets behind Ai and tugs him backwards into his chest, cooing some nonsense about _true love_ and _cherishing_ and _bonds_. Ai gives him an unimpressed look, slowly cocking an eyebrow.

“You main Genji. I can't say with any certainty that you're even slightly likable.”

Ren laughs at that and Ai sits back up, waving him off. Ren eyes where Ranmaru has his back turned to them in the kitchen; he's busying himself with _something_ , staunchly ignoring them both.

“Oh? Is Ranmaru going to make something to eat?” Ren asks, voice lilting with something that makes Aine rise.

 _Don’t let him_ , Aine murmurs foggily, and this time Ai decides to listen.

“Hopefully he will.” Ai cuts in. “I’ve had a terrible day, and I just thought it would be nice to eat with someone. Loneliness while sad is truly the most terrible combination, I'm sure you know.”

 _That_ seems to dig under Ren’s skin a little, and Ai’s voice softens to soothe away the ruffle feathers. He was good at that part, better than Aine had ever been, because he was never looking for a fight. Maybe scaring Ren off wasn’t right, but Ai was too tired to be obscenely kind.

“But Ranmaru and I are the only one’s who have the day off today, so I'll be a little cruel and ask him to make me something. In the end, why scorn good company like us?”

“That’s a good point Aimi,” Ren says, but Ai can tell his heart isn't into teasing them anymore. “I can't stay long, I have a shoot today, but enjoy your meal.”

“Have a good shoot.”

Once the door clicks shut, Ai slumps against the countertop. Ranmaru is looking at him oddly, silent and contemplative, and Ai smiles at him. He knew judgement well.

“I'm not judging ya.” Ranmaru says, easily catching onto Ai’s thoughts. He moves to lean on the counter too, close to Ai once more, and he tucks Ai’s bangs back gently. “You’re not usually like that, though.”

“I don’t like that side of me.” Ai says softly head tilting into Ranmaru’s palm. “It’s hard to know who I am when there’s so many aspects of what I _could_ be, like _that_. I feel like a shattered mirror.”

Ranmaru doesn't say anything for a moment, just holds Ai’s cheek, and he manages to look more thoughtful than before. It's the same unnerving attention as always, like he’s tethered himself to Ai and can't help but give him all his attention. If Ai were less tired, less awash with emotions, he might have flustered under the look. Instead, all he can muster is innocent affection for the look he's being given; if anyone was allowed to dissect him, it would be Ranmaru.

Ranmaru, who had definitely not liked Ai at first.

Ranmaru, who had still stuck with Ai when nobody was bothering to speaking to him.

Ranmaru, who had managed to bring Ai away from the shore and keep him away.

Ranmaru, Ranmaru, Ranmaru.

“Nobody can decide who you are for you.” he says. “You're the only one who has to approve, so don't worry about what others want to see. Just be whoever you are.”

If Ai had an actual heart, it might have been thumping. Instead, his everything gives a painful throb and he buries the feeling under a sigh.

“I'm sorry you only see all the bad in me.” Ai laments, unable to feel any remorse for the way Ranmaru draws comforting circles across his skin. “I come to you only in distress, don't I? I am a bit cruel that way.”

“That's stupid.” Ranmaru says immediately. “I see a lot more than that every day. You really don't give your face credit, you know?”

“Huh?”

“Oh sure, most people would say you’ve got a flat expression, but you really don't. When you think someone is being stupid, you get a wrinkle between your brows. When you think _you're_ being stupid you bite the inside of your cheek, and I can tell because you bite hard enough for the skin to dip. When something unbearably funny happens, like Reiji falling on his ass during practice--” Ai scrunches up his nose a little, and Ranmaru smiles. “--you do _that_. I think the easiest to notice is when you’re trying to not smile, because you always end up doing it anyway.”

* * *

 

Ranmaru resists the urge to touch Ai’s lips with his thumb, unable to imagine doing something more than light, reverent touches. Ai bites his lip when he's trying to not smile, a weak defense against his joy, and all Ranmaru wants to do is kiss him until he stops hiding it and _uhg_. He was going to die of sugary affection it seemed. Not cool.

But it was hard to resist temptation when Ai looked like he would melt under the right touch, how close he looked to just relaxing for once. And maybe that's not necessarily a good thing, because he also looks like he'd fall apart with one wrong move. He’s not sure what the right move would even be.

“Point is, I get to see a lot of you, alright? So don't go around apologizing like an idiot.” Ranmaru says, and he waits until Ai moves away to pull back into the kitchen. Looking at Ai was hard, all broken up and tired, and Ranmaru wonders when was the last time he had just had a normal week.

“I spoke to the doctor today.” Ai says as Ranmaru gets started on. . . something? Ai isn't quite paying attention. “I think he's hiding something from me, but I. . . know what he’s trying to hide.”

 _He can't hide me from you_ , Aine sighs out.

_And yet he thinks he can._

“Can't hide jack shit from you, smartass.” Ranmaru tries.

“. . . No,” Ai decides softly. “Most people can't hide from me. And I can't hide from myself, either.”

“On principle, you shouldn't.” Ranmaru agrees.

“Then I won't.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [come hang out with me on tumblr y'all](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/)
> 
> edit: i remember what i wanted to add to this and that is that ren would 100% be a genji main and literally nobody can stop me from saying this, stay on the point genji, dont fuck off and the ask for healing while surrounded by enemies, fuq u genji ANYWAY


	23. Doorway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doors slam in our faces whether we like them or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im not feelin chatty today so short note lol, but next week ill be without internet so early post, enjoy!

He's sitting on an uncomfortable wooden chair, gripping the edges of his seat tightly. He knows his grip is at its maximum, tightest it can go, which means the chair should be ripping but it's not. He doesn't question it.

He wants to.

There's a spotlight on him, a familiar burning heat, and darkness as far as he can see. He turns his head to the shadow he's casting on the ground and immediately feels unease. There's something uncanny in his shadow, wholly unmoving yet twisting and shivering like a trapped beast, somehow both being true of it.

He doesn't like it.

He doesn't have to like it.

He's afraid of what's in there.

Nobody cares that he's afraid.

The surrounding darkness is safer than the shadow, and he knows this intrinsically, instinctively.

He cannot move.

This is reality.

* * *

There's a ring around the moon. That's important. He doesn't know why. The clouds are rolling past quickly, looking more like poured water than vapour. This is important. He doesn't know how. There are palm trees with muddy, crawling fingers trying to touch him. Those are normal.

This is not his, yet it is. The beach purrs familiarly, sand gritty between his fingertips where his arm is thrown over the edge of the beach chair. He’s flat on his back. The air doesn't smell like salt.

This is not important.

This is just reality.

* * *

Someone’s head is on his chest. It's a memory. They’re singing. His chest feels warm. This isn't for him. He moves on.

This is just  _ a _ reality.

* * *

A bright, white light.

* * *

“I think we need to talk.” Ai tells the hallway, a blinding white place full of light and doors. He sits on the floor easily, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “I mean, it would be nice. You don't really  _ need _ to do anything.”

There's a thunk against one of the doors before it cracks open. Aine steps out, and Ai gives him a good look; he's broad and muscled in a way Ai had never seen him but knew he once was like. He had never let go of who he had been before everything had become worse, and it was how he presented himself to Ai constantly. Today he was in a black baseball tee and grey pants, cool toned and outlined clearly against the wall.

“You blend into the floor.” Aine says, settling down across from Ai with his legs crossed and his arms propping him up from behind.

“I like white. I think it looks nice on me.”

“It does, but colors look good on you too,” Aine cajoles, reaching out to tug at Ai’s long sleeve. Ai can see the thin, pale lines denoting scar tissue on Aine's inner arm, subtle and elegant compared to the ones Ai knows lie high up on his thighs. The familiarity is disturbingly soothing. He knows they are mirrored on his own skin for tonight. “Cool colors, or if you're feeling daring a nice red works too.”

All it takes is a thought for Ai’s shirt to darken to a warm, familiar maroon. Aine gives Ai’s pants a sharp look,  _ still white?, _ and Ai sighs. Black leggings,  _ stop winning we're gonna talk, yeah yeah, _ and now they both stand out against the hallway. Neither of them can hide anymore.

“I think you know what's happening.” Aine says calmly, hands returning to his own lap. “And I don't think we can stop it, even with uncle’s unending genius.”

“There’s currently only so much we can do.”

“Yup. So, you know, get ready for it. I’ve sort of. . .  _ been _ ready.”

“How long do you think. . . ?” Ai tries to ask, voice faltering sharply. “How--”

“Not long.” Aine cuts off, voice soft. He’s not quite looking at Ai, eyes focused over Ai’s shoulder instead of his face, and Ai feels cold.

“Was it the beach?”

“The beach was what I was waiting for, honestly. Not the first part, more like the, the getting to talk and be honest with Reiji. I mean, I couldn't just leave you with all that tension, could I?”

“I don't think you get to decide that kinda stuff.”

“I don't. But-- but that’s what I was waiting for, Ai."

* * *

The beach is beautiful. The sky is too bright. Ai can't look up at it, so he watches the sparkle of the sea under an eternal sunset. Even the sand bursts like crushed diamonds, too fine to truly feel under Ai’s hands, bizarrely similar to powdered sugar.

“I shouldn't like the beach that much, you know? I almost died here and I still think it's the most amazing thing in the world.” Aine says, turning to look at the shore properly. Ai moves with him.

“It’s not the sea’s fault,” Ai says. “It moves at its own pace. I think the romantic way of saying it is that the sea was here before us, and it will be here long after we are gone.”

“Yeah. Kind of an honor gettin’ so much attention from it.” Aine jokes, grinning. “When did you get so good at metaphors and shit?”

“I write music, Aine, it's a given that I'd learn  _ something _ .” Ai snarks, flipping the bird at Aine with a tired huff. “I'm coded with genius level intellect and an internet connection, if I'm lacking. And. . . there’s always my band.”

“You've never been this good at honesty.”

Ai pauses, taking in a deep breath.

“I don't like lying.”

“You won't have to do much of that anymore.”

Aine lifts a hand, rubbing the back of his knuckles against Ai’s cheek fondly. He’s shaking. Ai takes his arm and pulls him closer, Aine falling and resting his cheek against Ai’s shoulder with little resistance. Ai rubs his cheek against the top of Aine’s head, a loving mockery of Aine’s own actions, and a sigh blows out of Aine with force.

“I'm not ready.”

“I know.”

“I lost so much.”

“I know that, too.”

“I made a mistake.”

“We all do. But I've come to realize that we pay for our mistakes and move on.”

“Moving on is hard.”

“. . . I know. It'll be hard for me too.”

“I'm sorry I never got to sing with you “ Aine says, and Ai can feel the hefty weight of Aine’s genuine sadness at the thought.

“Then we should sing.” Ai says simply.

It is, of course, that simple for them.It had always been that simple.

* * *

Later, he can't even remember the melody.

* * *

Later, Ai wakes up and knows he cannot do a single thing to change what  _ is _ .

* * *

Later, Ai wakes up and can't make himself get out of bed.

* * *

Later, Ai wakes up and he wishes he hadn't.

* * *

Later, Ai wakes up but it doesn't feel real, and yet.  _ And yet. _

This is his reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love writing dream sequences
> 
> so i dont usually explain stuff in notes as you all know but two things that i feel are probably not well known should be explained: a ring around the moon means theres mischief afoot, something is gonna happen, etc. basically the fae are causing trouble as usual. second, i live near the coast and i have for all of my life so i see a lot of tropical depressions and hurricanes; if you see clouds pouring by, a big ass fucking storm is coming. they basically both signify "danger is coming", just that one is abstract while the other is palpable, but i dont know if those are well known things so i wanted to make sure it was clear
> 
> [my writing blog](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/)


	24. Privacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How much time can fall between the cracks?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive seen this and the next three chapters so much in the last week that my eyes burn every time i look at it lfjdgldjfl
> 
> so this is the home stretch y'all. including this chapter, theres 4 chapters left of cat, and im just gonna rapid fire update one a day til im done (hopefully)
> 
> o boi

Ai wakes Syo and Natsuki up as usual. He goes through the motions of his morning with ease, maybe a little more quiet than usual, and when he shrugs his bag onto his shoulder, he hesitates to pick up his phone.

He casually forgets it as he leaves.

* * *

He goes through as much of a normal day as possible, forcing himself to remember that he doesn't have his phone on him. Instead, he casually flicks through his emails on his tablet and apologizes as sincerely as he can to anyone who angrily emails him that they're calling him. _ I must be catching something if I'm becoming this forgetful, _ Ai writes because nobody actually wants the truth, _ I don't want to hear from anyone, _ and he knows it to be true. Filming is mind numbing, which is perfect for what Ai wants; he doesn't want to have to think at all.

Nobody calls him out on being a little dry today; maybe they sense his declining mood. Filming wraps up well though, and then it's time for recording from the late afternoon through to the night.

Recording.

Recording means singing.

It hits Ai like a freight train when he’s on his way over, fingers freezing on his tablet screen. Singing. Singing? Just singing. He didn't want to sing. He will though.

He can do that.

It’s the only thing he knows how to do with any certainty.

He can totally do it.

* * *

Reiji is the last to arrive, but he’s almost on time for once by virtue of the fact that Ranmaru is forcibly dragging him into the studio. He seems to be blubbering. Ai and Camus had been chatting quietly before they burst onto the scene. Camus rarely texted anyone, and the person he texted most was probably Ai (Cecil was a close runner up lately, though) so Ai had already run through his apologies for missing the total of two texts Camus had sent that day.

“Ai-Ai!” Reiji wails as he stumbles into the studio, and Ranmaru lets go as Reiji tries to completely knock Ai over in a crushing hug. “Ai-Ai, I've been texting you all day! Why haven't you answered me?”

“I forgot my phone this morning.” Ai says, hesitantly hugging Reiji with one arm.

“I,” Camus says, standing up. “Am going to get away from all of this.”

Ranmaru looks inclined to agree but he just takes Camus’s vacated seat and watches Reiji whine into Ai’s shoulder for a few minutes. Ai stiffly pats Reiji’s shoulder through it all, eventually turning Reiji towards the door.

“Why don't you get Camus,” Ai says calmly. “And the faster we get recording done, the faster we can go back, and the faster you can spend time with me.”

“But--”

“Shh.”

With that Ai gently pushes Reiji out of the door and shuts it softly. After a moment of silence, Ai slowly drops his head against the door; he looks a little lost, eyes foggy.

“Ai?” Ranmaru asks, moving so that he's facing Ai but not quite standing up yet.

“I need to-- talk, with you, if that’s okay?” Ai asks, and  _ now _ Ranmaru stands to hover behind Ai. “It's. It's something bad.”

“What happened?”

Ai turns around to face Ranmaru, pressing his back to the door and anxiously twisting his fingers together. Ranmaru gets closer, carefully grabbing onto Ai’s hands to still them. Ai drops his head onto Ranmaru’s shoulder.

“I said I wasn't going to lie anymore, and I said that to you, and I can't lie to you. I wasn't going to hide but I can't do this.” Ai whispers, squeezing his eyes shut. “Aine-- Aine’s dead. He’s actually dead. This morning. I don't know what to do.”

It’s quiet for only a moment before Ai lets out a little, choked sob. He feels infinitesimally small, a speck in the wind as opposed to an actual person. Ranmaru curses under his breath and then he’s hugging Ai tight, an arm around his waist and a hand holding the back of his head gently. Ai tries to pull himself together again, and the hug helps.

“I don’t know what to do,” Ai murmurs helplessly. “That’s why I left my phone, I know the doctor has been calling me, and  _ I can’t do it. _ How do I tell Reiji. . . ?”

Ai shudders at the thought and burrows further into Ranmaru, and Ranmaru keeps him dutifully close. Maybe a little support is all he needed because it’s easier to grab his problems by the tail when he's in someone else’s bubble.

“I'll have to tell him after recording. Tonight. Can't sit on it.” Ai decides, voice faint.

“You shouldn't isolate yourself.” Ranmaru says, firm, so very  _ sure _ of what he’s saying that Ai melts appreciatively. “I made that mistake when my dad died.”

“I think I recall you telling me you used to punch your way out of your feelings,” Ai says, and a laugh bubbles out of his chest as he leans back to wipe his eyes. “Trouble maker as you are.”

Ranmaru has the decency to blush but he rolls his eyes.

“It’s not my fault idiots crossed me. They we’re dumbasses at the wrong place, at the wrong time.” he responds gruffly, letting go of Ai just to gently rub his cheek with a thumb.

_ Oh,  _ Ai thinks, and it numbly echoes across his mind, _ I wonder if anyone would believe this is you now? _

“I doubt I'll be nearly as explosive. I'm going to get through today and. . . and I'll tell Reiji.”

“And you'll call the doctor.”

“And I'll call the doctor.”

“Good.”

And maybe Ai purposefully keeps himself close to Ranmaru, but he’s short on pillars of strength and promises himself he'll pay Ranmaru back for this. He deserves better than what Ai can give, but he’ll keep giving until he’s in debt to himself if it means he'll be enough.

* * *

Telling Reiji goes to fucking hell. Neither of them know how to cope,  _ surprise surprise, _ so when Ai sits Reiji down in the dorm he shares with Otoya and Tokiya he already knows it’ll be bad.

“What's up, Ai-Ai~?” Reiji asks, smiling brightly. Ai holds back a cringe.

“Reiji,” Ai says slowly. “Aine passed away this morning.”

Reiji’s expression doesn't change.

“He died in peace and without pain,” Ai continues, trying for soothing. “And he wanted me to tell you that he’s always going to look out for you, even if he failed before.”

“. . . Oh.” Reiji says, lips twitching. “Oh.”

He laughs. It sounds horrifically cracked, dry and broken and void of any mirth possible. Some part of Ai knew this would happen; Reiji had barely been able to cope with Aine’s initial disappearance, even before this moment. And yet he feels woefully underprepared when the tears start leaking out from Reiji’s eyes, dripping past a wobbling, hollow smile and onto his jeans.

“Reiji--”

“If you don't mind, Ai, it would be great if I could be alone right now.” Reiji interrupts, motioning towards the door.

“. . . Of course, but if you need anything I'm going to grab my phone now.” Ai assures, edging towards the door uneasily. “I'll see you soon.”

“Mm.”

Ai closes the door as he leaves with a firm tug, and all he hears is the echo of a half formed thought that leaves him choked.

* * *

He has 3 missed calls from Dr. Kisaragi. He was always quicker than Ai, probably realizing Ai’s grief by the third call. Ai goes to the lab once he’s got his phone in hand.

* * *

The doctor hugs Ai like his life depends on it. Ai hugs back, keeping quiet about the doctors puffy look and red rimmed eyes. Instead, he guides the doctor to his apartment-- yes, Heiji Kisaragi  _ actually _ had a place to sleep that wasn't the lab. It was dusty as hell but Ai ushered him into the shower before he could think about it and set himself to power cleaning the place as fast as possible.

Once the doctor is out, Ai makes food, makes sure the doctor eats some, and packs the rest away to force on him tomorrow. Then they sit together, and Ai lets the doctor cry out all his woes onto his shoulder.

“I hope I don't lose you too.” Dr Kisaragi says softly, exhausted. Ai presses a kiss to the top of the doctor's head, affectionate and kind.

“You won't.” he says simply before guiding the doctor to bed and staying until the doctor is sound asleep.

He writes him a note and locks the door  with some force when he leaves.

* * *

Ai’s foundation has crumbled. He's not sure how to recoup. He doesn't acknowledge the cracks under his feet. It’s much easier to deal with the cracks growing under everyone else.

* * *

There's only fragments of thoughts, bits and pieces that don't add up because there’s just too much space between them. Ai’s head feels empty, void of thought and emotion and will, and he stops eating (he never needed it, it was all a farce after all) which is what slowly tips others into asking what was wrong.

“I can't remember my favorite food,” Ai tells someone one day, unnervingly casual. “Or my favorite nail polish. I suppose they weren't mine to keep.”

He tells somebody else, “I don't really know what I'm doing.”

They might have been the same person. Ai isn't sure.

* * *

Ai’s edges are fading. Skin blurs into the treeline as the strings that sew him shut are clipped, clipped, clipped in jagged strokes. Heavy handed is the knife that cuts him in half. Heavy is his heart and mind. So he does what he knows best, and pours himself into music.

At least music hadn't changed.

* * *

Reiji is quieter but he doesn't ignore Ai, which is. . . good, actually. Sometimes he would just hug Ai for no reason, but that was good, really really good. Sometimes Ai would hug him back.

Maybe he wasn't really grieving, but it would probably be okay. They were going to work on it together; it’s not like Ai didn’t have the space for it, now. There were no more consoling voices to rely on (an eerie thought if it had been anyone but him, he supposes) but he’d make it. Ai was nothing if not made to last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think the fragmented nature of recovery is fascinating. how much do you lose track of?
> 
> [if y'all wanna yell ya know where to find me](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/)


	25. Lodestones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has lodestones in their life, and sometimes we need to touch base with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i slept with my fingers curled up so they hurt, wweh
> 
> What I was listening to while writing this: [Touch by Daft Punk ft. Paul Williams](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Gkhol2Q1og)

Ai spots Itsuki talking to Haruka in one of the trailing halls inside of Shining Agency, animated and bubbly. Her hair is tied up in a neat braid, and Haruka is laughing and nodding along at whatever she’s saying. The closer he gets, the more clear it becomes that they're talking about composing. It’s charming, seeing them exchange advice and build on each other’s ideas.

Ai is about to pass them by when Itsuki says, “I have a really good falsetto though, and yours is Ai-chan here!” With that, she throws her arm out to wrap around Ai’s middle and tug Ai in. Ai’s lips twitch up and he drapes his arm across her back, squeezing her shoulder.

“Good morning Itsuki, Nanami.” he says kindly.

“Good morning Mikaze!” Haruka says happily.

“Hey jerkface.” Itsuki says, hugging him tighter. “You haven't hung out with me since you've gotten back from the beach.”

“It’s been busy.”

Itsuki looks up at Ai, really  _ looks, _ and she frowns. 

_ Ah, so she can tell.  _ Ai hugs her a little tighter in assurance.

“I was telling Haru-chan here that high ranges can be fun to play with. Have you ever heard Ai sing Winter Blossom live?” she asks, and Haruka shakes her head.

“No, I don't think so! But I've heard the recordings.”

“Doesn't do it justice.” Itsuki says proudly, and Ai feels his chest go warm. “And now that he has more practice and comfort with his high scales, it’s even lovelier.”

“Thank you,” Ai says softly. “But it wouldn't be what it is today without your efforts, Itsuki, so thank you for composing for me.”

“He's such a charmer when he wants to be.” Itsuki teases, and Haruka laughs with a nod. “Do you mind singing for us?”

“Never.” Ai says without having to think. “I can't promise it will be up to your expectations as I wasn't prepared to sing yet.”

“Don't worry Mikaze,” Haruka assures. “Your singing is always amazing!”

“Let’s steal a practice room for a bit.” Itsuki says, taking Haruka’s hand and dragging them both down the hall.

When they find an empty one, Itsuki is off like a shot, getting the piano all ready and checking if it was tuned. Haruka and Ai follow at a more sedate pace, watching Itsuki’s quick, precise movements with fascination.

“Yoshino is so. . .” Haruka starts, trying to pick out a good word to describe Itsuki.

“Obnoxious.” Ai teases, loud enough to make Itsuki aware of him. “Even worse when tax season approaches.”

“M-Mikaze!”

“Learned from the best, jerkface.” she replies with a laugh. “Come sit with me Haru!”

Haruka complies with a nervous titter, fixing her skirt so that it’s not too intrusive on the bench. She’s turned to face Ai, looking open and kind, and Ai is struck suddenly with a realization: that's why people loved Haruka so much. She was always there, a kindness when the world was playing cruel games. If Ai wasn't already in love he might just be enchanted with her.

He just smiles at the thought and sings when Itsuki plays.

* * *

“Everytime I hear that song it gets more heartbreaking.” Itsuki says when they're done.

“I’m always a little heartbroken.” Ai admits before bowing. “I have to leave now, but thank you for having me.”

Ai exits with a wave and Haruka can't quite make herself speak. Itsuki sighs and slumps against her.

“He’s so  _ sad _ .” Haruka whispers faintly.

“I know.” Itsuki replies. “But. . . he’s better than before. I’m gonna cheer him on ‘til he smiles like he means it.”

Haruka smiles at Itsuki, turning towards her.

“You two are close, huh?” she asks.

“Kind of. We’re definitely friends.” Itsuki replies.

“Then I think you two will be fine,” Haruka says sincerely. “Because I’m sure support is what Mikaze needs now.”

“You can’t fix all of men’s problems.” Itsuki says with a mockingly sage voice, and Haruka laughs.

“That’s what Tomo says too, but I don’t see it like that. It’s just refreshing to see people grow with a little help. So I hope he doesn’t stay sad for long.”

Itsuki hums thoughtfully, playing a few notes in a loose melody. Haruka hesitates for a moment before playing on her end of the scale, trying to compliment Itsuki’s lazy rhythm, and before long they’re building an impromptu song with no end in sight. It’s nice, hearing it fill up and bloom between little snippets of conversation, and Itsuki sees what Haruka means.

* * *

The sadness doesn't last too long.

* * *

“You're kidding!” Ai yells the moment Ranmaru opens the door for him one morning, walking in as if he owned the place. After how much time he spent there and how much he'd organized, he felt a  _ little _ entitled to the space. “You're an idiot and you're kidding, because you are  _ not _ quitting rock.”

“Who told you that?” Ranmaru asks, closing and locking the door; trying to get Ai out once he’s decided is like trying to stop the ocean from churning.

“Who  _ cares _ who told me, except that it should've been you,  _ as a joke. _ ”

“I need to dedicate myself to Quartet Night if this is going to work.” Ranmaru says gruffly, walking around Ai into the kitchen. Ai follows him right on inside, a sort of soft anger cutting through his expression. “I can't be split.”

“Rock is a part of who you are!” Ai insists, stopping just inside the threshold. “You're cutting your own arm off.”

“I'm making space.”

“You're making a  _ mistake _ .”

Ranmaru huffs deep inside his chest, slamming his water bottle into the counter. He has to remind himself to not look at Ai, instead going to grab his some god-awful-but-efficient protein powder from a cabinet.

“ _ Ranmaru, _ ” Ai says. “Nobody is asking you to give up a part of yourself for this band. Nobody would ever ask that of you. Don't change yourself for this.”

No answer. Ai slowly shuffles over to Ranmaru, hand dropping against Ranmaru’s side. It’s easy to see that the anger was wholly drained out of him, Ai unused to maintaining any level of outward antagonism. This, Ranmaru was used to; a quiet, thoughtful melancholy that tinged every word.

“This is coming from a selfish part of me, but I don't want you to change like that.” Ai murmurs, voice catching near the end. “So much has been going on, and now I have to watch you hurt yourself, and I really can't stand it. If I can convince you in any way to just. . . I don't know, I just can't watch you suffer. You love rock, more than you love anything else, and I want to see that love  _ stay. _ It’s important to you, and that makes it important to me that you have it. Don't. . . don't cut yourself off, don't punish yourself, because you haven't done  _ anything _ wrong.”

With that, Ai leans his forehead against Ranmaru’s shoulder, a warm weight against his side. It’s a mirror to every time Ai had borrowed strength from Ranmaru, except now Ai is trying to pour it all back into him; there's so little after all the suffering, but Ai is nothing if not determined.

“You’re wrong.” Ranmaru says finally, not looking over. “I do love someone more than rock.”

“Will you lose them if you don't let go of rock?” Ai asks softly, wrapping his arms around Ranmaru securely. “Because if the answer is yes, they don’t deserve you. If they can't care about all of you, then they shouldn't be a part of your life.”

_ Don't look, don't look, don't look, _ Ranmaru thinks futilely, because he’s already turning towards Ai. Ai lifts his head, loosening his grip but not letting go as he looks up at Ranmaru. He still looks determined, but there's a soft, foggy look on top of it. Ranmaru cups either side of Ai’s face gently, and the little sigh Ai let's out melts away any resolve Ranmaru had left.

He’s so fucking pretty, so kind despite how rough Ranmaru was with him, tough as nails when he needed to be, and Ranmaru is so busy waxing fucking poetic in his head that Ai closes his eyes peacefully. He looks comfortable there, comfortable in Ranmaru’s space, almost like he knows he’s carved himself a little spot in Ranmaru’s heart.

“Ran?” he asks, quiet and unobtrusive.

“I really,” Ranmaru starts, running his thumb across Ai’s cheek. “ _ Really _ want to kiss you right now. I doubt that’s the normal reaction to getting yelled at.”

Ai blushes under Ranmaru’s hands, but he doesn’t open his eyes. He still looks comfortable pressed against him, like this is where he belongs, and all the fucking  _ turmoil _ of the last few days melts away under the weight of how much he wants to kiss Ai.

( _ Because this  _ _ is _ _ where he belongs,  _ some part of Ranmaru’s mind supplies,  _ He’s always belonged here _ .)

It's a disgustingly sappy thought but any rancor he could have for it disappears when Ai says, “then kiss me” as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

Their first kiss is overwhelmingly gentle. Ai shivers and presses closer and Ranmaru has the faint thought of  _ how the hell am I supposed to stop after feeling that? _ So he doesn't, and Ai is all too pleased to follow, and when they finally do break apart, the look Ai had on had solidified to a dreaminess Ranmaru was too pleased to bear. He drops his arms to hug Ai properly instead.

“This. . . is not how I expected this to go.” Ai says after a moment, pensive as always.

“Me neither, but here we are.”

That makes Ai laugh a little, lips curling up. He drops his head to Ranmaru’s shoulder, nuzzling in comfortingly; he’s slowly, nice and slowly, turning a bright pink.

“Odd things happen when I'm brave.” Ai whispers. “I came here to be selfish and instead I was rewarded for it.”

“You have a weird definition of selfish,” Ranmaru says with a huff. “Yeah, maybe you came here because you’re afraid, but you did it for me.”

“I’d do a lot for you.” Ai confesses, refusing to look up. If he looked up right then, he’d probably short circuit with embarrassment. “Because you've done so much for  _ me. _ And I didn't get it, because why do things for someone who is so  _ hollow _ . . . ? That emptiness is what I'm afraid is going to happen to you if you give up something you love so much.”

Taking a deep breath, Ai leans back to face Ranmaru properly, hot and red and  _ determined. _ It’s the most emotion he’s shown since their stint to the beach. He hesitantly brings his hands up to Ranmaru’s cheeks, taking in an even deeper breath.

“I can never tell you what to do. But, you are Ranmaru Kurosaki. You're the love of rock and roll, your cooking, your talented voice, your artistic abilities, your mean tongue and kind heart and wild personality. And you’re also Quartet Night, you're a friend, you're a mentor. You are  _ all _ of that, and you don't ever have to give up  _ any _ of it because you’re determined and  _ whole; _ you're you, and that  _ matters. _ You're everything you need to be. That’s something being around you has taught me; you are everything inside of you, and to see you try and carve some of that out is. . . is heartbreaking.

“I just lost possibly the most important part of who I was, but that’s not true. I had propped myself on somebody else, and I hadn't even thought of it until I met you-- someone so unbearably comfortable with being yourself that I realized I was never being myself. So all I can ask of you, if you'll allow the selfishness, is to  _ keep being you. _ If you can do that, then I'll always know that maybe I can be  _ me _ too someday.”

Ai laughs nervously, looking at the ceiling a little because that laser focus look always makes him more shy than usual.

“Just be you. Don't be anyone but you.”

With that, Ai kisses Ranmaru’s cheek.

“And if being you involves kissing me, I wouldn't be opposed.” he whispers, feeling a curl of something more pleasant but much stronger than embarrassment unfurl in him.

“Oh good,” Ranmaru says with palpable relief, turning to press Ai against the counter. “Tell me I have time to makeout with you, because you just ticked  _ all _ my boxes back there.”

“An hour and a half, because I have to get ready soon for a filming at 12 and you have an interview at 1:30.” Ai breathes out, fingers curling into the collar of Ranmaru’s shirt.

“You're just  _ full _ of good news.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyway arent u guys happy i did it? he kissed the fucking robot after all this time. all i can think of now is ppll making out in the hallways of my school and im,,,,,, disgusted kjehkfdjldfsd
> 
> im on [tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) if anyone's interested


	26. Absolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time and effort changes all things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol late upload but whatever yo, its the last hap thurs of cat. . .
> 
> I listened to: [ Strobelite by the Gorillaz ft. Peven Everett ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Op_UhnD6CmE)

“We made out,” Ai says with a wheeze the next day, covering his face. “Oh my God.”

“You could do a lot better.” Camus says primly as he spoons sugar into his tea. “But at least there won't be anymore unbearable tension around you two.”

“Camus. This is  _ really _ weird.”

“Maybe, but I don't think it will be bad. You just had a big change in your life, and Kurosaki has always acted as a pillar for you. We all have, but him the most.”

Ai leans back into his seat, tugging at a strand of his hair. Camus motions to Ai’s own cup of tea, jasmine and soothing, and Ai dutifully grabs it and takes a sip.

“Cam,” Ai says slowly, swirling his tea. “It felt so odd, but good. It's like I'm choosing something,  _ by myself, _ for the first time.”

“That’s good, then.” Camus says, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah. It’s. . . that simple.”

Camus sighs, pressing a cool hand to Ai’s forehead; there's a fondness in his movements, and Ai is reminded that there’s a reason he considers Camus as close as he could ever get to a best friend. Ai very casually taps his forehead into Camus’s palm, smiling.

“You’re an idiot.” Camus despairs, sending a shot of frost into an impromptu laurel around Ai’s head. Ai giggles, squirming away from Camus.

“Good to see you never change, Cam.” Ai says with a slow-blooming smile.

* * *

Itsuki  _ screams _ when Ai tells her about him and Ranmaru. It’s embarrassing as hell, but Itsuki is jumping around excitedly and pounces on Ai with a joyful ferocity Ai can’t deny.

“Congrats!” she squeals, squeezing Ai. “He’s a dickhead, but not as much around you, so this is great!”

“Thank you.” Ai replies, hugging her back. “A friend told me I had the effect of “horse tranquilizer” on him once.”

Itsuki squawks at that, struggling to catch her breath, and Ai only feels a small twinge in his chest at using Aine’s words. Itsuki’s bright, hyena-esque laughter helps, because Aine had thought it just as funny too, and it’s easy to remember his good humor.

(There’s stuff he’s never told anyone about Aine; maybe in his memory, Ai should hoard a little less and share him a little more.)

“Let’s go out to eat,” Ai suggests. “My treat.”

“I could never say no to that!”

* * *

Ai sits with Reiji, who’s half dozing on his lap. Ai has been petting Reiji’s hair for the past half hour, and it’s probably the smoothest it's ever been because Ai has brushed all the knots away with unending care.

“Sorry.” Reiji murmurs, voice thick. “I just cried all over your pants.”

“You can buy me a new pair,” Ai says smoothly. “When you feel a little better, we'll go out shopping together.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“It will be.”

Eventually Reiji  _ does _ fall asleep, and Ai thoughtlessly braids small parts of his hair. They had talked, and Reiji had cried and screamed and yelled bloody murder, and Ai had let him. It had been. . . cathartic, to see Reiji vent and unleash his misery. He was tired by the end, but he looked. . . better.

It’s the little things, Ai supposes; he wasn't Aine but he was as close as Reiji had to let go. Ai had gotten his closure, while Reiji hadn't, and he deserved as much. Ai was more than willing to give him that.

* * *

Ai spends a little more time with Reiji from there one, just to see how he’s doing, and they  _ do _ eventually go out like Ai promised. It shocks Ai to realize that this is the closest he’s felt to Reiji, possibly ever. He watches Reiji gravitate towards deep greens and stripes, and so Ai buys him a comfortable olive colored jacket lined with warm white fleece and lots of pockets for all the nonsense Reiji carried around with him. It only feels right.

“I'm supposed to be buying  _ you _ clothes,” Reiji teases when Ai passes him the bag. “Thank you!”

“I don't see why a gift wouldn't be in order.” Ai says simply. “I should be fair though and get more gifts for others.”

“It would be fun!”

“Mhm.”

And that’s how Reiji and Ai find themselves bouncing around stores, leaving at the end of the day laden with bags. Ai didn't think retail therapy was his thing, but he was very quickly proven wrong considering all the shit he just bought.

They pass by a stationary stand and Ai’s steady stride stutters to a stop.

“Hm? What is it, Ai-Ai?” Reiji asks, looking between Ai and the stand.

“I need something.” Ai says suddenly, and he very easily picks out two things: a wide roll of washitape and a black notebook with silver detailing. “Exactly this.”

“What for?” Reiji asks as Ai pays for it.

“Personal uses.” Ai says before changing the topic. “I've been thinking of buying myself a necklace lately, but I can't find one I like.”

“Really? We’ve been looking all day!”

“I'll find it eventually.”

Syo gets a set of new silver bangles with matching piercings, all designed with sharp geometric patterns that had pink enamel carefully poured into each groove. Ai gets Natsuki a set of small Sanrio mascot plushies that all wear matching hats, because small and cute was more than enough for Natsuki.

Neither of them are there when Ai arrives, so Ai stashes his personal buys away. He just leaves their bags on their beds and then gets ready to give Camus and Ranmaru their gifts, not bothering to leave notes; they'd figure it out. The tape and notebook go in one bag, then two other bags find their places curled around Ai’s finger tips.

Camus isn't in his room, which isn't surprising, but they're not best friends for nothing. Ai has a key, and he leaves the bag on his pillow to be obnoxious.

“Left you a gift.” Ai simply texts him, smiling a little. It was a set of teas common to Permafrost, and maybe Camus didn't  _ need _ a reminder of home but Ai doubts he’d hate it. Ai had also bought himself a matching set to try.

Next was Ranmaru. Ai texts him a succinct, “where are you?” and gets an address in return. Blinking owlishly, Ai decides that today was going to be a fine adventure.

* * *

The fine adventure leads him to a small apartment, and when Ai knocks on the door Ranmaru answers with the distinct smell of curry pouring out.

“Smells good.” Ai says, tilting his head to the side with a smile.

“Tastes even better.” Ranmaru replies, letting Ai in.

“I brought you a gift,” Ai says, and when he turns to present it to Ranmaru he's swept up into a chaste kiss. It makes him laugh giddily. “I love it when you do that, but I'd also love it if you opened this bag.”

Ranmaru tries to say something, but Ai just pecks the corner of his mouth and thrusts the bag into his chest.

“Unf. Rude.”

“Always.”

Ai sits himself down on the couch, crossing his legs in wait. Ranmaru sighs and rummages around in the bag before blinking in surprise.

“Obviously I don't know  _ exactly _ what you like,” Ai says nonchalantly. “But I personally liked those albums so I was hoping you'd like them at least a little.”

“You bought me vinyls.”

“ _ Classic _ vinyls.” Ai says.

Ranmaru sits, pulling each one out of the bag. They file out one by one, Ranmaru giving them a perfunctory look before moving onto the next;  _ Toys in the Attic, Electric Ladyland, _ and  _ Dark Side of the Moon  _ stack up neatly on Ranmaru’s lap. When he pulls out  _ Californication,  _ Ai gently traces the edge of the cover.

“This one is probably a little too new for your interests, but I liked it quite a bit. And, there’s one more I want to explain.”

“The Red Hot Chili Peppers are always a classic.” Ranmaru assures, adding it to the stack.

When the sleek black cover of  _ Random Access Memories _ comes out of the bag, Ai’s expression goes soft. He takes it from Ranmaru, hiding behind it so that only his eyes are peeking over the edge; he flutters his lashes playfully at Ranmaru, and Ranmaru scoffs at him.

“It’s really not your style,” Ai starts. “Too disco. Too synth. But it  _ is _ a favorite, and well, I was hoping you'd enjoy having a little piece of me around.”

“Of course you like Daft Punk.” Ranmaru says, voice tinged with disbelief. Ai just neatly places the vinyl on top of the stack.

“I just hope you like them in general.” Ai says, shrugging. “If nothing else, they're pleasant wall decor.”

“ _ Of course I like ‘em what kinda question is that-- _ ”

Ai laughs as Ranmaru places the vinyls on the coffee table only to tackle Ai in a hug. He kisses Ai like he can't think of anything better to do, and Ai ruins it by smiling, but its all good. He’s still got to go to the lab, but right now kissing Ranmaru and ( _ hopefully _ ) getting to try whatever he’s making was good.

* * *

Turns out everything Ranmaru touches is delicious. That includes when he presses his lips to Ai’s neck, but Ai would never admit as much.

* * *

The lab is it’s typical, insatiable mass of disarray and wreckage and it makes Ai cringe. The doctor is buried in the back, working on something or other, and Ai tuts his disapproval.

“Doctor, you have too many important things to be aware of for this place to be so messy.” Ai berates, dropping off his bag on his own lab table. “And to think, I brought you a gift and everything.”

“A gift?” the doctor asks, not looking up. “I have a gift for you too, but gift me a wrench first, please.”

Ai rolls his eyes but complies with practiced ease, passing a wrench to the doctor who blindly takes it. In the meantime, he starts to peel the old washitap from the edges of his desk; it rips in a few areas and he frowns.

“Get water for it. It’s papery.” Dr. Kisaragi says, and Ai hums.

“It's rude to ignore me.” Ai says instead of taking the suggestion.

“I suppose, but it’s also rude to get a boyfriend and not bother telling me, so I guess we're even.”

Ai’s fingers freeze where they're scraping away at the tape, face very slowly flushing. Dr. Kisaragi finishes for the moment, casually turning around to watch Ai as he wishes he could melt into the floor, and Ai can't manage to look at him.

“. . . I guess he  _ is _ my boyfriend.” Ai admits quietly, very much mortified that the doctor had stolen all his confidence. “It’s just. . . never been in as many words.”

“Amazing. I mean, I'm really not mad or anything. You know, I caught Aine and Reiji--”

“Don't remind me!” Ai yelps, throwing the bag at the doctor urgently. “I don't want to remember that, just open the bag!”

The doctor bursts out laughing, clutching the bag to his chest. Ai scrubs his cheeks, trying to forget the feeling of (even  _ more _ ) pure mortification of getting caught in bed with a lover when he had never done such a thing. When Dr. Kisaragi finally gets himself together long enough to open the bag, he makes a little confused noise at the black notebook.

“Writing things down is how you like to solve your problems,” Ai says, still huffing a little. “So I thought that maybe between you and me, we could. . . write what’s wrong and how to fix it. Because it matters, more now than ever, that we  _ do _ resolve our problems.”

“Oh.” the doctor says quietly and Ai crosses his arms, fingers curling into his sleeves anxiously.

“It's not very elaborate, but I’m hoping it  _ will _ help.” he says finally.

“It’s perfect, Ai.” Heiji Kisaragi says, standing up to give Ai a proper hug. Ai hugs him back, squeezing gently.

“I want to make things right.” Ai sighs.

“You’re starting off well.” the doctor praises, finally letting go of Ai. “I have something to give you, and then you can tell me about your boyfriend as your first big step to make things right.”

“He’s really not awful, I promise.” Ai says, smiling a little.

“Probably not.” the doctor acquiesces, digging into his lab coat pocket and pulling out a small velvety box. “Here. You know, I'm pretty good at being a dad if I’m trying.”

“You're always trying.” Ai says, accepting the box and opening it. “ _ Oh! _ ”

It’s a silver necklace with a lavender teardrop crystal. It’s a mirror to the one Aine had owned, gorgeous and simple, and Ai can't help but pet it fondly; he feels conflictingly happy and sad at the sight. He’d never taken to wearing necklaces because the phantom weight around his neck had been enough. Now it was gone. The thought makes him tear up a little.

“It was his favorite piece of jewelry, and I just thought maybe it would be good for you to keep a good trinket of him.” the doctor says. “It’s not his, but. . .”

“Thank you.” Ai says simply, shaking his head. “I wouldn't want his. This is. . . good. Really good.  _ Thank you. _ ”

Ai lets himself cry a little as he puts it on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an explanation: the first three albums are my friend's fave classic rock albums so thanks 2 her for helping me w this, Californication is a fave bc i like what it has to say about stardom, substance abuse, and unseen trauma (californication, otherside, and scar tissue) aaaaaaand daft punk is amazing okay random access memories is one of the, if not THE, best albums ive EVER had the pleasure of hearing and it plucks all my creative chords all the time yo
> 
> next chapter is the last one y'all. . .
> 
> [it my tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/)


	27. Énouement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Énouement- n. the bittersweetness of having arrived here in the future, where you can finally get the answers to how things turn out in the real world—who your baby sister would become, what your friends would end up doing, where your choices would lead you, exactly when you’d lose the people you took for granted—which is priceless intel that you instinctively want to share with anybody who hadn’t already made the journey, as if there was some part of you who had volunteered to stay behind, who was still stationed at a forgotten outpost somewhere in the past, still eagerly awaiting news from the front. (via the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Goodbye to a World by Porter Robinson ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W2TE0DjdNqI)

Ai replaces the old washitape around his desk with a silver and purple striped design, sealing over it with clear tape. His necklace bounces against his chest with every breath, a comforting rhythm that juxtaposes the staccato of the doctor’s wiring work; the sharp sizzles as he bores holes through metal and fuses wires together calls to Ai. His phone pings with excited text messages.

It turns out Ai Mikaze was a lot of things, and he hadn't known about most of it. That was okay though; he has more than enough time to figure it out now.

Ai Mikaze is young and alive and safe despite it all, and he couldn't ask for much more. Maybe he was a little lonely, but he wouldn’t be for long. He had a lot to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ my final thoughts ](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/post/174918572398/fin)


End file.
